The Road to Love Is Paved with Friendship
by WhirledPiece17
Summary: House & Wilson have been friends since they've become doctors at the same hospital. Can they slowly learn to love each other after a surprise "date"? House X Wilson Chapter 40 is up! I write as if the first team never left. Rate and review please! Thanks
1. Let The Good Times Rock and Roll

_Disclaimer: I do not own House (Come on that would be awesome!) and do not own any of the actors, characters, locations, or even any medical supplies. I am just an innocent fan, who likes to write, **do not** sue me. Also you have been warned. Eventually this will become a House/Wilson story so please no slash banging. **IF YOU NO LIKE DO NOT READ!** As for me and all the other House/Wilson shippers out there enjoy the show!_

**Summary: House gets tickets to a concert and invites his best buddy, Wilson. Eventually they start to become more than friends and need each others company more and more as time passes. Eventually romance but for now just a friendship. Enjoy! **

Chapter One: Let the Good Times Rock and Roll

"Heya buddy!" House exclaimed as he barged unannounced into Wilson's office one sunny afternoon, the weather strangely matching his sunny deposition. Unfortunately, his oncologist friend was seeing a patient at the time and the both of them looked at House with a look of surprise drawn onto their faces.

Wilson, who was discussing a new treatment to his elderly patient, squinted his chocolate brown eyes at his friend, "Ever heard of knocking Dr. House?" The poor patient, an elderly woman with a cap on her bald scalp looked at House with watery green eyes and a worried pout.

"Uh…" the crippled one paused to study the woman and then smiled weakly, "Sorry. I'll try again later," he left with a silent nod and leaned against the wooden wall just outside Wilson's office. He had gotten his pills back so he was happy for the first time in a long time. He was practically smiling all the time. Except now. That woman just looked too pitiful.

Ten minutes later House had beaten his high score on his PSP game, and the old woman had left Wilson's office hugging him goodbye. She looking more hopeful than ever. "It's _not a trouble_ then?" she asked tears expelling her eyes gratefully.

Her doctor shook his head smiling reassuringly, "Not at all," he stated proudly. The woman's eyes shone with immense gratitude as she hugged him. She eventually let go and walked away towards the cancer ward.

House looked at the back of the woman and his best friend and snarled, "What did you offer her? Her husband _alive and well_?"

Wilson pouted and crossed his arms, not pleased, "He's _still alive_...and what do _you_ want?"

House just pressed his strong back against the office wall, popped a single Vicodin and smirked, "Do you want to come to a concert with me?" he asked.

His only friend closed his eyes in thought, and put a hand to his forehead before asking hesitantly, "Who's performing?" He was expecting the Rolling Stones concert or maybe AC/DC. He couldn't stand either, but he awaited the answer just he same.

He was surprised when House admitted, "Bon Jovi and Goo Goo Dolls," As Wilson's deep brown eyes opened the first thing he saw was two crisp tickets being waved in his face, "Going once…going twice," House's teasing voice sang out.

Wilson smirked and grabbed one of the tickets, "Going with you,"

His best pal bellowed, "Sold! To the man who sleeps with his dying patients!" A pair of brown eyes rolled, but the mouth they were attached to continued to smile as he stored the ticket in his lab coat pocket. His friend beamed as if he had just won the Gold Medal in the Special Olympics, and started to limp away, before Wilson caught his arm.

"Wow!" House exclaimed, "Assault in the workplace!" He yelled loud enough for the ducklings down the hall to look at the odd couple alarmingly.

The man who had on the lab coat asked quietly, ears turning pink, "When should I stop by your office?"

House smiled eyes blazing and teeth glinting, "Five minutes," and continued on his way. Wilson stifled a laugh and walked into his office to pick up his coat.

House/Wilson Forever! House/Wilson Forever! House/Wilson Forever! House/Wilson Forever!

It seemed as if House had had barely begun to explain to his team what he and Wilson where up to later when there was a knocking on his conference room door. There stood Wilson in his green windbreaker and a smile planted on his face. "Later young ones. Don't wait up." House announced putting on his leather jacket and leaving the room. The team just looked at each other their expressions mirroring their unison confusion.

The two men made it made the elevator, away from Cuddy's office, and down to the parking garage before they were stopped by the Dean. "And _where_ do you think you are strolling off to?" she questioned planting two high-heeled feet in front of House's motorcycle.

Before Wilson could confess House butted in with his usual sarcasm, "Well I can't really stroll. Bum leg and all that." as he swung the said leg over his motorbike. Cuddy's face remained straight, but her head tilted slightly towards Wilson.

Her oncologist couldn't look her in the eye…at first, "We are going to concert. The clinic's all taken care of and he has finished his case files."

Now it was her turn to stifle a laugh, "His _case files_? That pile from_ here_ to the moon is done?" House nodded sincerely through his helmet visor, and she could see that his eyes were serious. She studied her two employees and sighed, "_Fine_. Go and _enjoy yourselves_. At least _some of us_ know how to have fun on a Friday night. Come in earlier tomorrow though."

The boys agreed through their helmets and Wilson climbed on behind his best friend. Cuddy walked into the building and House uttered his voice laced with relief, "Thanks, man"

Wilson tightened his helmet and grumbled, "Cover your own ass next time."


	2. On the Road

_A/N: Awww…thanks for all the loving comments and favouriting me! I will keep writing I promise. I really don't see Wilson as a Stones person sorry. He seems more the Coldplay smooth rock type. I'm sorry if I tend to get out of character at times…it's been awhile since I've seen a new episode! ENJOY!_

Chapter Two: On the Road…to Happiness

Wilson had never ridden on a motorcycle before, but not to say he didn't enjoy every second of it. Every sharp turn House would barely make would give him good reason to grip onto House harder, and then the smooth driving of down a near empty highway was pure bliss.

Thankfully House had his back to him otherwise he would've gotten laughed at for his goofy grin. Eventually they were near New York City where people from all around were gathering for the concert.

Eventually they made their sweet time to the parking garage where poor Wilson regrettably paid for parking to which House replied, "_I_ bought the tickets with my pocket money…_you_ get parking," They parked near the front for House's "bum leg" couldn't walk too far.

They were one of the lucky people who got a near the exit. One man who drove by in an Audi flicked House and Wilson off as they climbed off the motorcycle, and House yelled after the man's open window, "Can't you see that I'm a cripple?!" raising his cane to show the poor guy who had walk a few extra yards. Wilson just sighed, shook his head, and replaced his helmet on the bike, followed shortly by House.

"Where to?" he asked his "crippled" friend who had obviously a better idea to where he was headed.

The blue eyed one looked both ways and crossed the street to the buzzing concert hall, "_Maybe_ towards the big, brightly-lit building with thumping music and people?" he inquired pointed his walking stick to where he was limping.

Wilson hoped that he could make it through one night without sarcasm...one night over. He checked his watch as soon as they stepped into the spacious auditorium they had barely made it in time.

Security had every man and woman go through a ritual scanning and x-ray machine, House and Wilson included. Luckily they were able to go into the shortest of the three lines. The security man behind the computer looked vaguely of Tritter, and grinned at House as he limped through the gate. Eventually after Wilson's belt was removed, and scanned separately, they were allowed to pass into the seating area.

People were everywhere. Most of them looked to be no older than sixteen but some collage students were blended into the crowd. The odd couple limped and walked a few rows over and found their seats. No sooner than they had sat down did House pull out his hat, a green one with white skulls on the sides, and pull it over his curly hair.

Wilson leaned into whisper to him, "Going to ruin the concert? Call out into middle of a song that you knew one in collage?" He chuckled at his joke, but House remained stone-faced, and responded in a gravely tone, "Nope. I need disguise. I don't want people to know _I'm here_. With _you_,"

His friend's brown eyes squinted confused but decided not to press him any more. Besides the lights were begging to dim and the crowd started to scream. The show was about to begin.

Jon Bon Jovi and his band walked out to the shining stage, their faces magnified a thousand times on the screens on the side of the walls. The sound of the people in their comfortable blue seats was deafening. The lead singer grabbed a microphone, "How are we New York City?!" The teens, twenty-somethings, and some loyal fans from the start screamed their response so it was difficult to understand.

Suddenly a guitar chord rang out and the concert started full force with "You Give Love a Bad Name" from the band and the crowd went ape. House didn't cheer but he did lift his hand up in the air in a fist pump.

Wilson cupped his mouth and yelped, "Hell yeah Bon Jovi!" _Hell yeah_!" Obviously he was thinking of all his ex-wives but House could never know that…


	3. Bon Jovi and GooGoo Dolls Awesomeness

Author Comments: I love you guys

_Author Comments: I love you guys. Every time I get a new review my heart swells with joy that I am making the House/Wilson community happy. I can also see Wilson liking Sheryl Crow for some odd reason…anyway. I hope you like my chapters even if some out of character moments tend to arise occasionally. Bare with me okay? As for Betas…I choose Aquila Corlax! As for every one else keep reading…I lurve you all! _

Chapter Three: Bon Jovi + Goo Goo Dolls Awesomeness!

As Bon Jovi rocked it out and various people in the crowd stood up to sway back in forth or fist pump two people stayed in their seats. These two people were our boys…House and Wilson.

Occasionally Wilson would stand to attention and pull out a cell phone and wave an outstretched arm so his lighted screen joined the many others in the auditorium. Then he would slump down into his comfy chair causing House's to quiver violently.

"Would you mind not doing that? My leg was perfectly comfortable the way it was before you jerked it," he groaned into Wilson's ear.

His friend's poorly lit face looked apologetic and he couldn't help but smile and respond to himself, "Okay…just don't give me that poor pitiful look," he paused slightly continuing to look at the band sing their classic hits and continued, "It won't work because I'm a guy. You can't get me into bed with that look,"

Wilson had hoped that he had heard his best friend wrong and blinked the confusion from his face and stood up once more to cheer loudly for the band on stage. House stood up shakily and yelled loudly and gave a few cat calls. Looking at his friend they once more found their seats, this time at the same moment so they were able to get snug without hurting House's right leg.

Some time later the lights were turned on, the band had left the building and everyone's ears were ringing. House had sat up a little straighter and whistled loudly to get the peanut guy's attention, "How much peanut man?"

In a heavy New York accent the man replied, "Two dollars will get you peanuts and a coke," Digging through his deep jeans' pocket House managed to surface two dollars, handed it to the man who stored it in his apron and got in exchange his prizes.

Before the man turned away he faced Wilson, "Anything sound good to you, sir?" The brown eyes closed momentarily in thought and bought a bag of popcorn and a Sprite.

The two men sat there enjoying their snacks in silence. Every time a person would pass by their row House would lower the brim of his hat slightly, causing Wilson to shift uncomfortably. "Take of that damn hat," he demanded after a while. "We're not on a date…we're two doctors trying to have fun," popping some buttery goodness in his mouth.

House glared at his best friend before removing the hat making his already untidy hair poof out, and it made his friend laugh making his shiny brown eyes dance. He grumbled as he shelled a peanut, "Not everyone has perfect hair...like you and Chase," eating the peanut bitterly.

Wilson smiled pointedly and shrugged a shoulder, "True. At least mine isn't going grey from stress," His eyes were still smiling brightly.

House laughed forcefully, "Stress? What stress? Being hounded by you and Cuddy to do my job? Ha! That was a laugh. Did you hear that? Ha?!"

Wilson was about to make another point but then the lights started to flicker again and the crowd let out another deafening roar and the Goo Goo Dolls burst into the screens and stage. The second half was about to begin.

A piano bit had started for Better Days, and looking down Wilson saw House drumming his hands on the armrests as if it was him on stage playing keyboards.

That made him feel sorry for him and he got a rare glimpse at the House inside. Under that brick wall of defense. He saw a House that wanted to belong with someone or something. He saw a House that hated who he was and needed no one. All House could see were the pianist's fingers strumming along the keyboard.

Wilson had played drums in collage so he watched the drummer for a bit of the concert admiring the man's quick reflexes and agility. He wished he was on stage, and after a while of the strong bass he imagined himself in that seat, under those hot lights, surrounded by that deafening roar of the music, and it set his heart ablaze with joy.

House was imagining his name in lights and he didn't know if he should smile or burrow his eyebrows with worry. _Will that complete my life? _He thought to himself…_Being in a band? Get a hold of yourself like they would accept a cripple…_


	4. Happiness is Just A Pizza Away

Chapter Four: Happiness is Just a Pizza Away

After the long drawn out concert, the crowd started creeping out of the large spacious auditorium. Wilson had stood up and stretched and started walking towards the exit when he felt a hand on his waist. Spinning around to see House's all-knowing smirk, still seated, he looked at him oddly.

House shook his head and asked in a strange tone, "Have you ever been to a concert before? Stay here and wait for the lines to thin,"

Wilson stayed where he was and placed his hands on the familiar place on his hips, "Lines for what?"

House scoffed and rolled his deep ocean eyes, "For souvenirs of course. I need a new T-shirt you know," Wilson sighed impatiently and slumped into his shaky seat, "Of course. I completely forgot about your T-shirt collection,"

About fifteen minutes passed until House stood up and started walking awkwardly towards the exit yelling to his buddy, "Come on! What are you waiting for? The T-shirts to get sown?" In a random burst of energy Wilson ran and was at his side. House raised his eyes and pushed his way through the double doors.

The lines were considerably thinner and most the people were out on the streets or on their way to the parking garage. Of course the diognostian knew where he was going, straight to the T-shirt stand near the exit. Waving his cane at anyone he came up against he eventually made it to the front of the line.

Wilson stayed behind leaning against a bench near a vending machine reminding him how hungry he was.

Soon enough, House surfaced from the small sea of fans with two T-shirts slung across his arm. Wilson smiled wryly at the sight and waved his hands, "Um, no thanks. I don't want that shirt,"

His blue eyed friend laughed in amusement, "Who says it's for you?"

Wilson shrugged a shoulder and opened the door for the both of them and responded, "Well I just assumed because you took me to the concert and all. Who is it for?"

House looked up from the design sown onto the black shirt, eyes shining in the streetlight, "A buddy of mine,"

Wilson blinked as they crossed the street, "But I am the _only_ buddy you have," House glanced at his friend with a hurt look as if the words stung, "Exactly. It's for you," and tossed the shirt into the surprised friends arms.

The brown eyes widened as they walked and limped into the parking garage, "But you just said that…"

House nodded through his helmet, "That it 'wasn't for you'. I know. I just changed my mind. I don't think its Cuddy's size and style anyway,"

With a slight shrug James hopped on the motorbike behind Gregory. Before the deafening roar of the bike he asked, "Do you think we could stop for some food?"

The driver smiled and replied before revving the engine, "I know a place,"

House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson

They drove on through the night as the city was put behind them they reached the suburbs of New York and the good restaurants. House seemed to know his way around probably from exploring on his motorcycle after various concerts by himself. Wilson figured that they would find a place to eat soon, but that didn't help is nagging hunger pains.

Soon, House pulled into the parking lot of a small pizza pub, removed his helmet and climbed off the bike as soon as he could.

Wilson stayed on for a moment to just admire the quaint little restaurant. From the outside it looked like it could only hold about twenty hungry customers and a small staff of waiters and waitresses.

House grabbed Wilson's helmet right off his head and stared him down, "Are you here just to admire _the view_ or to get _some eats_?"

Wilson climbed off the motorcycle, and started striding his way inside. Once he and his friend walked in they were immediately hit with the strong aroma of Italian sauce and cheeses. It was enough to make _anyone_ drool. The waitress at the front was checking something off a long list, and looked up when our boys arrived.

Her blond wavy hair was tied up in a bun and green eyes glinting behind green rimmed spectacles. Once she saw them the ushered them wordlessly to a booth. The boys sat down comfortably in the peeling red leather seats.

House was staring out the window watching the headlights of cars passing not at all wanting to look at Wilson. The waitress came by again with a sparkly notepad and a pen asking them for their drink orders. House's gaze had to pass over Wilson to get to the waitress. They both ordered beers and then the woman stalked off to the kitchen. The booth was extremely cramped, their knees grazing each others under the plaid table clothed table. When their beers arrived they clinked bottles and drank deeply.

Wilson spoke first, "I am not asking to talk about nuclear physics. I am just asking for some friendly conversation,"

House stared into his almost half drunk bottle swirling the amber liquid around a bit and responded, "What about? The hot waitress? The concert? How good that pizza smells?" He took one more quick swig.

Before Wilson could shake his head the waitress arrived once more at their booth and asked in a heavy New York accent, "What can I get you guys?"

They hadn't even looked at the menu but House knew what he was doing, "We'll have the supreme pizza deluxe," and before Wilson could protest, "And two more beers," The waitress nodded and strutted to the kitchen.

Wilson's eyes were widened and leaned across the sticky table, "But, House, that's _not kosher_ for me,"

House waved his hand absently and leaned back in his seat, "Oh relax. You break the rules all the time," Wilson sighed and shook his head with his eyes closed.

A few beers later, mostly of House's consumption, their pizza arrived and placed in front of them like it was worth its weight in gold. House served himself and Wilson a piece and started devouring it hungrily. Wilson looked apologetically at the food before taking a few slow bites.

House stared at Wilson and questioned, "Have you ever had Chicago's deep dish pizza?" Wilson shook his head through the slice. House smirked and shrugged, "This doesn't _even compare_ but its okay,"

Wilson took a sip of his third beer, and stated knowingly, "You've been_ everywhere_ haven't you?" House smiled, licking his lips, "Well everywhere except Australia." Wilson realized his friend was serious and didn't press the subject further.

After the pizza was indulged, they paid the waitress and left. A light sprinkling rain had begun to fall and House swayed on his way to the bike before being stopped by Wilson. "Do you think you are fit to drive?" his concerned friend asked.

House just threw his head back and laughed mounting the bike.

_A/N: So what do you think? I haven't gotten any comments in awhile so I am just curious if people still like it. I am trying my hardest to bring in subtle romance into it. Soon my friends. Probably by chapter 7 we will get some romance material. Please rate and review. I will keep writing._


	5. Back to the Old Grind

Chapter Five: Back to the Old Grind

Wilson could honestly say that he had never wanted to sleep so badly. After House dropped him off at his hotel, he peeled off his green windbreaker; barley kicked off the shoes; and stumbled into bed. The warm sheets had never felt so good as he drifted off to dream land.

As soon as House pulled into his apartment he jumped off the motorcycle, limped inside, and turned on all the lights. For some odd reason he was more wide awake then usual. Usually beer made him drowsy and with the combination of Vicodin he would be out in an hour. This time he couldn't stop reviewing this evening. It was if someone had recorded all that happened that night from House's point of view and the movie kept repeating itself in his mind.

Slumping onto the couch with a new beer bottle and remote he turned on the TV. The clock on the screen blared 12:37 but he could care less. He turned on his TiVo scrolling through the lists until he found_ Two and a Half Men. _

When Charlie walked onto the screen and started to play piano House was reminded of himself, especially with that carefree personality streak. And then Alan stormed into the room complaining that Charlie didn't do his chores and House was immediately hit with the memory of when Wilson was living with him. The thought made him smirk.

Half a season later the TV was still alive and blaring, but House was dead to the world, empty beer bottle still in hand.

The next day around lunchtime Wilson walked into his office to eat his lunch. With a small brown paper bag and a carton of milk he sat behind his big oak desk. On top of it was a motorcycle helmet and a Post It note saying in House's barely legible scrawl, _Meet me by the parking garage. Casa. _Wilson laughed a bit, grabbed his meal, and walked out the door once more.

House was there with a cafeteria doggie bag and a cola, leaning against his motorcycle. Wilson noticed the helmet already on and looked at him questionably. House gave a slight smirk through the helmet and jerked his head invitingly as he climbed onto the bike. Wilson stored his lunch in House's knapsack on his back and reached across his friends lap for his lunch. House's cheeks flushed red but then he realized Wilson was just retrieving the lunch. After both meals were stored and helmets were put on the duo drove off down the road towards the countryside.

They reached a big open field next to a river about ten minutes later. House swung his legs over the bike, removing the helmet and taking a deep whiff of the crisp fresh air. Wilson finally took off the protective hat and asked the question that was on his mind, "House? What are we doing?"

House smiled as he sat down on the grass and placing the knapsack next to him, "I thought it was a beautiful day and I thought we could have a picnic,"

Wilson sat down next to his friend and unzipped the pack, "Okay. _You_ are freaking me out. A beautiful day for you is a thunderstorm and _no patients_,"

House almost smiled, his stubbled face did light up but it didn't form a grin. He took out his lunch and started to eat the apple from the cafeteria. "Well. Wilson. I just thought that the free clean air would do us some good. Besides its going to be getting cold soon,"

Wilson shrugged and took a bite from his sandwich, "Thanks for last night by the way," he added.

His friend's eyes sparkled, the blue matching the gorgeous sky, and shrugged, "It wasn't a problem."

After eating and discussing the concert they laid down on the grass next to each other. Not too close but close enough that they could hear each others breathing. House was staring at the endless sky, thinking of what shapes the clouds made, hands lazily behind his head. Wilson was laying there quite comfortably for a patch of the greenest grass, and wondering something. Eventually he wondered out loud, "Hey House,"

House turned his head slightly inhaling the strong smell of fresh field flowers, "Yes, Wilson?"

"Do you think…if we went to the same high school at the same time, that we would be friends?"

Before answering House closed his eyes, and envisioned himself back in High School on the track team, and it brought back all the memories along with it. The desperate attempts to make his dad proud; the trophies he chased after; the need for speed; and the carefree attitude. After a while he was thrust back into the present and replied, "Depends, what activities were you in?"

Wilson chuckled, an innocent sound, and said, "Chess Club. Class Vice President. Um…School Newspaper."

House laughed and then responded the already known answer, "Then I guess we wouldn't be friends. We came different ends of the spectrum."

Wilson smiled and just continued staring at the sky, relaxing and breathing deeply, and for once in a long time, felt at peace with House nearby. House just closed his eyes once more reliving the Golden Days and somehow wishes that he at his friend went to the same High School.


	6. The Whiteboard Speaks the Truth

Chapter Six: The Whiteboard Speaks the Truth

After their picnic the boys went back to work, and back to boredom. While House was writing things on the whiteboard for the current diagnosis, his mind would loose focus and he would write Sandwich instead of syphilis. When the neurologist read this he raised a black eyebrow, and questioned, "Um…did the patient have food poisoning that led to syphilis?"

House didn't acknowledge his mistake until his eyes fell onto the board. He shook his head and ideas from it as well. With one quick movement he erased the food symptom and replaced it with the disease.

Carrying on, when Cameron suggested severe allergens House immediately thought of the flowers he was just laying in and wrote "flowers" on the space below syphilis. Cameron scoffed, nabbing the eraser near the edge of the board, and erased the plant and wrote with a stolen marker _"House? Relax."_ In barely enough time for her boss to read it, she made it disappear, before writing her original intention.

Eventually they made it through five more food items/disorders and the team left to run some tests. House stared at the board and saw some empty white space. He bent over slightly to scribe, _"Ask Wilson to live with you,"_ Capping the marker, he sighed deeply mind reviewing his decision. He grasped his cane in his hand, feeling the smooth wood, and took a relaxing breath. It's not like he was asking his friend out on a date or anything.

_House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson_

There was a hard knocking on Wilson's door about five minutes later. The oncologist got up from his desk, smoothed his tie and hair and opened the door to a very self-conscious looking House.

"Can I help you, House?" he asked oddly, as if seeing his friend at this hour was a strange occurrence.

House cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck before questioning a bit hesitantly, "Um…can I come in?"

Wilson moved aside and ushered House inside. He had never seen his friend nervous to talk about anything. Except maybe when he couldn't urinate or when his leg was on fire with pain. He sat down on the couch and gestured for his friend to do the same. The handicapped one rested down on the couch, focusing on the cane in between his legs instead of his curious friend.

Wilson pushed the subject, "What's wrong?"

House tapped the cane to his increasing heart rate and glanced at his friend slightly out of the corner of his eye, "Um…Wilson…I want _you_ to…"

Wilson shifted on the sofa slightly and looked at his friend expectantly, "Go on. I won't bite." With this, a slight smile creeped across his face. As if Wilson wanted to make House more comfortable in the room by adding sarcasm to it.

House tapped the cane once more and looked directly into his friend's deep chocolatey brown eyes and asked from within his soul, "Will you move back in _with me_?"

The other man was speechless. No. He was more than speechless he was at a loss for words. _Did the man who basically kicked me out just ask to be a roommate once more?_ His mind raced. Eventually when he found his voice once again, he asked in a shaky unsure tone, "Are you sure? _Why_?"

House was more confident that he had made it this far and replied, "Well…you made me feel good to go home. I loved your cooking and your company. I want to be able to be friends _in_ and _out_ of the workplace. I promise not to be _too much_ of an ass,"

Wilson gave his buddy a reassuring smile and a pat on the back, "_I'll hold you to it_, House. I will move in tonight," Without a second thought he got up and grabbed his jacket. "Its time to head home anyway," House's whole face lit up with a smile, yes _an actual smile_, and he left the room to get his own coat.

While he was in his office, House grabbed the marker, and checked off the last item on the list. It _was_ a good life.

A/N_: Heya! So what do you think? Too forward? A little odd? I had a dream about a picnic so I just had to use it in my story somehow. I hope that I didn't disappoint anyone with it. Please just review and rate this. I won't bite…much. Thanks for the reviews so far to date. House is on tonight! YAY!_


	7. The Tipsy House of Fools

Chapter Seven: The Tipsy House of Fools

House couldn't wait to get off work. Normally when the small hand on his watch was sluggishly making its way to five, he would glance at it every once at a while. Today his eyes were glued to the clock, acting as if it were the last day of school and he was the student gripping onto the desk for dear life.

Wilson had said yes. It made House's heart of ice seem to melt a little bit knowing that their friendship meant that much to the both of them. His team in the lab doing some last minute tests for patient-what's-his-name, House was sitting behind his desk drumming his nails against the wood impatiently.

Glancing at his watch once more he realized that it was going on 5:15. He couldn't waste another second, he leapt up from his desk, nabbing his walking stick from the side of the desk, and bursting from the office.

_Chapter Seven Is Up! Aren't You Happy?_

By the time House had made it home, glass of red wine poured, and taking his place behind his piano Wilson had arrived with brown bags full of groceries. A strained grunt and bags being placed on the counter confirmed only one thing…Wilson had to be home for good this time. His suitcases, having been dropped a half hour or so earlier, were lined up near the couch.

House played a simple melancholy song on the piano every once and awhile sipping his alcoholic drink or to glance at Wilson storing the food into the cabinets. It brought a familiar smirk to his face to see the man who he knew for so long back where he belonged.

House refilled his glass for the second or perhaps the third time, and got up form the piano. His friend was just finishing up putting some packaged meat into the freezer, and when he closed the freezer door he was looking at House eye to eye.

Well, maybe not right into House's eyes, those were too busy glancing at the almost empty grocery bags and were slightly glazed over.

"House? Are you okay? How much wine have you had?" Wilson's concerned voice seemed to echo in the room. House just gave his friend a slightly crooked smile, and started going through all the remaining brown paper bags. Pulling out some tortilla chips and some cheese he mumbled, "Get the cheese grater, above the sink, third counter from the right. I suddenly had a craving for nachos."

Wilson did what he was told, and along the way, finding a plate for their evening meal. House delicately placed enough chips for the both of them on the plate and accepted the grater. As Wilson handed the grater to House their hands were almost gripping to each other at the fingers. The touch was nothing for the sober one, but House was already on edge with Wilson living with him and all. He tried to ignore it as he shredded the cheese generously onto the chips.

Apparently, he was trying too hard to ignore it, because soon the chips were buried alive with the mountain of cheese. Wilson had to swipe the grater from him before the counter started receiving a shower of cheddar. House blinked something from his eye and put the nachos into the microwave and said vaguely, "I haven't been able to focus all day."

The brown eyes seemed to smile along with his face and he nodded in understanding. The arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen wall. The tone of his voice was questioning as his lips formed the words, "How long have you been considering me moving back in with you?"

The blue eyes widened but he had figured the question would come up sooner or later. He picked up the half-empty glass of wine and took a sip before responding, "From the moment you left," And before Wilson could answer,r or even have time to blink, the microwave announced its completion on the meal.

House retrieved their snack from the microwave and placed it on the table with a bowl. Limping his way to the refrigerator he grabbed some newly purchased salsa and another wineglass. He sat down at the end of the small table, pouring the spicy sauce into the bowl, and looked up at Wilson invitingly. The other man sat down, and they started eating together for the second time that day.

Eventually Wilson had made it through three glasses of wine and his head started to feel a hum. House's head was beyond a hum…it was a buzz. His judgments impaired he leaned across the table to look Wilson in the eye and ask, "If I were younger and didn't have a handicap…_would_ you consider _me_ an eligible bachelor?"

Wilson gave a slightly tipsy grin and shook his head at his friend, "House._ You_ could never be a bachelor because you have _too many_ problems,"

House hiccupped and smiled, "Thank you for your honesty, but _you_ wouldn't get the rose if _you_ were the last man on Earth,"

His friend laughed, taking away House's wineglass in attempt to get him to stop drinking, but House was one step ahead of him. Grabbing the bottle by the neck House drank straight from it, laughing the whole way.

The brown eyes shined in amusement and he mumbled, "Yep. That confirms it. You wouldn't be on the show if they paid you in pills and bottles."

House's smile suddenly turned serious as if bringing up something heavy, and Wilson took notice. "What's up?" he asked eyes twinkling with curiosity.

House sighed deeply and released what had been on his shoulders all evening, the reason he was celebrating with the wine. He brought the almost empty glass of wine to his mouth, but didn't drink. Instead his mouth formed the words, "I am going to go through detox again. This time I'll be serious. I will get the Vicodin completely out of my system. For good. And then I will just live off the safe meds."

Wilson's goofy tipsy grin vanished. It was replaced with a confused raise of an eyebrow and an odd slightly off look in the eye. "You sure about that?"

His blue eyed friend nodded slowly as if this was shaking off the weight on his back little by little, "It's what I need." He responded finally draining the rest of the glass.

"So this wine…is a celebration…?" Wilson sputtered out barley recognizing his own voice as it came out. He couldn't even recognize the words House was saying, as if House was a puppet with a very strange, and invisible, puppeteer.

"Yeah, I guess so," the blue eyes made contact with the deep brown. House had one more question but this one was a bit of a bugger. "Um…Wilson?"

He friend looked up from his chips that had been cheezified into the deep meaningful eye contact, "Hmm?"

The subject was brought up almost as easy as it would be to bring up the weather…_if it really _was raining cats and dogs. House lowered the glass and gave a half-smile, "Seriously speaking…if _you were a woman_…_or gay_…would you find me attractive?"

Wilson bit into the crunchy chip and laughed, "Wow. You are drunker than I thought. _That_ _better be_ the wine talking, House."

The gruff older face looked hurt for a little more than a second, but then he shook his head before repeating, "I am serious, Wilson. I need to know."

The brown eyes glazed over with mirth and then his mouth formed a flat line and leaned in close to say to the very curious being, "Well. Those aquamarine eyes are very deep and I admit the fact that you don't give a crap about anything is an attractive quality. But no…I don't love you," With that said and leaned back and ate another chip.

House nodded in understanding, and finally allowed himself to eat some of his creation that turned out to be pretty good for being so cheesy.

Later that night, House and Wilson were watching TV, and just relaxing unwinding after a long day. The wine had been stored and replaced in their firm, shaking hands with beer. They were so in sync. House would take a swig of his numbing beverage the moment Wilson put his bottle down. Eventually they couldn't focus on the TV.

"Are _you_ as drunk as _I _am?" Wilson hiccupped.

"That depends….am _I_ a beautiful beach blonde _yet_?" House chuckled.

The laughter that followed was a combination of everything. The beer, their friendship, and how much they knew they needed each other.

_A/N: I swear I didn't copy the rose thing from the episode last night. I thought of it after watching The Bachelor with my sister. What do you think? Please feel free to give any suggestions about how Chapter 8 should go. Be courteous though. No "Wilson and House should go get married and adopt twenty kids" I just need your feedback. Please rate and review. Thankies! Your comments are the sunshine I look forward to after a hard, cloudy day!_


	8. What Happened to Your Face?

Chapter Eight: What Happened to Your Face?

Later that night, after all the alcohol that could be consumed by two lonely doctor/bachelors, they went to bed. Wilson was the first to start to dose off. His face started to droop onto the couch arm and those deep glazed over brown eyes were closed.

House was barely grasping what the late night show host was saying, much less who he was interviewing. Softly he started to shake his friend's shoulder and whispered, "Wilson?"

No response from Wilson, the eyes had closed for the final time that evening and all that could be heard was the gentle sound of soft breathing. House didn't give up quite yet. He got up from the couch and limped over to his other shoulder and started to shake it as well.

"_Wilson!_ Its nighttime and a patient was _just_ diagnosed with cancer. _Come quick_!" All Wilson did was snore slightly and turn comfortably onto the cushion.

House just noticed that his friend was still wearing his tie and his shoes. He, for one, would've removed them at the door. his friend most have been too concerned with the groceries to care about his own comfort, and one thing always leads to another.

House was thinking of someone other than himself when he bent down and untied Wilson's black shoelaces. The shoes came off easily without rousing the sleeping beauty on the couch. The tie on the other hand…

House stood to his full height of six feet three inches, and thought about what he was about to do. If he woke up Wilson in the process, it would be tougher to explain than when he had to explain to Tritter why he needed pain meds. Nobody believed him then either.

He took in a deep quiet breath and bent down to remove the tie. It was tied around his friend's neck pretty loosely, but removing it was hard to do secretly. Eventually, it was swung over his neck and thrown onto the end table.

House looked down at his friend once more, resisting the urge to stroke the soft skin by his friend's neck again. He wondered impishly what Wilson would look like if he had a few days stubble. The idea made him laugh silently to himself. Then he had an idea…a horrible awful idea.

Greg smiled once more at his exhausted coworker and limped quietly over to the small toiletries bag Wilson left on the bathroom counter. Going through it he retrieved his prize. A Gillite Fusion shaver and shaving cream. He snuck into his bedroom, shut the door, and hid the shaver where hopefully Wilson would never look. House's underwear drawer.

_House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson_

The next morning was chaos. Wilson had strangely overslept, but then again, it made sense why. He no longer had a beige phone ringing in his ear, by a comfortable queen size bed telling him to wake up for work. Blinking awake, he almost rolled right off the black, squishy couch, and onto the hard wood floor. But. He caught himself. Or did his hang-over catch _him_?

Wilson groaned, and put his soft doctor hands to his temples. Every second that went by was like another circle of hell he had to pass through. How could House get him drunk like that, _and then_ leave him on the couch to wither into a _migrained fool_?

James stood shakily to his feet noticing his socks. _That is odd…_he thought. _I went to bed with shoes on._ He chose to ignore this oddity, and slunk his way into the bathroom, wishfully thinking that the hot steam would clear his head.

House was lying on his bed, already showered and dressed, just lying on the bed with an amused I-know-something-you-don't-know smirk on his stubbled face. He waited for it patiently. Soon he heard it. "Where the _hell_ is my shaver?!"

House climbed out of bed and tried to clear his migraine with a smirk. It almost got worse when he approached the bathroom door, "_What_ are you yelling about?'

Wilson opened the door in a heartbeat, white towel wrapped around his waist, water dripping off his still moist chest, and an angry scowl planted on his face. The scowl looked like it didn't belong there. Like a zebra in the penguin exhibit at a zoo…the scowl just _didn't_ belong. Also what didn't belong was the _faint_ outline of peach fuzz around his jaw. It was noticeable but not that bad…_yet_.

"Where the hell did you put my shaver, _House_?" Wilson growled.

His friend just looked shocked, "You mean…_you_ don't have a shaver?"

The shaver-less man gave an exasperated sigh and started to go through his toiletries bag once more. There were Q-Tips, toothbrushes, and toothpaste thrown everywhere. The carelessness of his items was completely out-of-character for the organized one of the two.

House caught a pair of flying nail-clippers and looked down at Wilson, "Are you sure its not there?"

Wilson glanced at his friend out of the corner of his brown, aggravated eyes and nodded. House stepped into the bathroom, the room seeming smaller with two people in there at once, and shrugged, "I don't have any handy. Sorry,"

Wilson squinted at his friend, crossed his arms over his bare chest, and cocked a thick eyebrow. "I had one when I unpacked last night,"

House raised his eyes and shook his head, "_Don't_ look at me. I hate shaving. _It hurts_," He pointed to his stubble to prove his point.

His only friend glared, "You don't have any just _lying around_? You have to shave every once and awhile," House just shook his head and slinked back into the bedroom, abandoning the conversation.

Wilson sighed and looked at his watch that was resting on the sink by the faucet. "Oh Crap!" As quick as he possibly good, he started to dry off, and got dressed in a quick flash of fury. As he ran his fingers through his hair one last final time in front of the mirror, he wondered…_Where the hell is my tie from yesterday?_

_House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson House/Wilson_

Later that night, House put Wilson's tie on the doorknob of the apartment, and walked into his home. When Wilson returned he burst in and belted out, "I knew it! _I knew you_ _took my things_!"

House was lying on his couch, deeply relaxed, and pointed to himself, "_Me_? Take _your_ stuff? _Unthinkable_!"

Wilson stormed over to the couch, shaking the tie in his firm fist, "_What_ is this then?"

"_That_…has got to be the ugliest tie _I_ have ever _seen in my life!_ What did _you_ do to it? _Run it over _with your car, and then try to bring it _back to life_?" House snarled a sarcastic smirk on his face.

His friend's response was another shake of the fist, brown eyes fiery with frustration. "It is the tie _I_ wore yesterday!"

House smirked sideways, "_That_ would explain it,"

Wilson put a hand to his forehead. The migraine, that almost lifted, had returned full force. He exhaled to stay level-headed. "Please. House. _You_ wanted me to move back in with you. _I did_. And I feel like _nothing has changed_."

House climbed off the couch, grabbing the cane from the arm of the black sofa, and locked into that powerful eye contact that they had made the night before, "_How things have changed_. You'd _never_ understand."

Wilson put his briefcase down on the shiny wooden floor, and put his hands on his hips, _"Oh yeah_? Try me. Go ahead. _Give it your best shot_,"

House took a deep breath, the one he thought would be the possibly the last breath he would take, and said dreamily, "What _happened_ to your face?" He was distracted…_again_.

Wilson ran a hand down the stubble that he knew he had grown, and just shook the thoughts from his head. "I'm listening, House. Tell me _anything_,"

House tried to block out the five o'clock shadow that had appeared on his friends face, and said in a monotone voice, "I-I can't get you _out of my head_. First the drunken comments last night, then _the dream_ I had--"

"What dream?" Wilson pressed, more interested in anything House had to say in a long time.

"I-I can't say it…you'll laugh and call it stupid," House murmured looking away.

"You _don't know_ that do you? Go on. Spill it out,"

House took another deep, final breath, the room getting tighter. "I dreamt that…I dreamt that I did _this_ and enjoyed it," With that last syllable he leaned forward, and kissed Wilson on his soft lips. The result was unexpected and unplanned for the both of them…Wilson kissed _back_.

_**A/N: **__What do you think? I am sorry to disappoint any fans out there…but I had to do all that. Suspense…suspense…and then __**BAM!**__ Yeah I hope you liked this chapter. My plan is to update every Wednesday after I watch House the night before but this week was a bit hard with Halloween and all. HaPpY hAlLoWeEn! I dressed up as House last year and not this year. Ah well. What did you think of this chapter? The thought of Wilson with stubble makes me squeal and I don't normally don't squeal over him. Keep commenting please!_


	9. You're Surprisingly Gentle

Chapter Nine: You're Surprisingly Gentle

_**Quick A/N: I hated to keep you guys waiting so long but my computer has been down and I have not been able to access the internet at all. I am sooooo sorry. I hope the fact that I wrote two chapters this time will make up for it. bows formally**_

Fireworks were going off somewhere other than New Jersey that evening. Probably in House and Wilson's mind there was a grand finale of fireworks. It was like they had never been kissed before and someone lit a fuse on their love. When they pulled away from their magical first encounter with each other Wilson mumbled breathlessly, "You're surprisingly gentle,"

House looked down at the ground, blinking a few times too many, and then looked into the deep longing brown eyes that belonged to his confused best friend. He swallowed a hard forced swallow and mumbled, "I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking," and limped as fast as his crippled leg could carry him out the door. He didn't even have time to grab his coat that was lying on the couch. Wilson looked at the closed door with sad big puppy eyes and sat down on the couch, holding his head in his hands and thinking with all his angsty empty heart. _What have I just done?_

House/Wilson Together/Forever House/Wilson Together/Forever

House had to get his mind of that fateful first kiss. Anything. He needed anything to get his mind off of it. _You enjoyed it._ The thought making him swerve almost too sharply on his motorcycle. It was a beautiful clear night and he just drove. On and on through the streets of Princeton he drove. Eventually he found a place to calm his nerves and convince him what happened didn't just happen. The local strip club.

He climbed off his motorcycle, and didn't worry about the helmet; he didn't have time to put that on either. House and his confused heart and mind hobbled into the slightly crowded joint that smelled of alcohol, sweat, and cigarette smoke. Above all, it smelled like home.

When he walked inside, the place that had become his favourite hang-out for the past five years began to seep into his memory once again. The usual waitresses were buzzing about, most wearing close to nothing on, and carrying enough beer to intoxicate an elephant. House limped his way to his regular seat in the front where the girls were about to begin their dance. Paying for a shot of vodka he slumped into the chair watching the women dance sexily to a techno version of the Titanic song against a pole. Under different circumstances his mind would be on the pole with them. But tonight all he could think about was how softly Wilson had kissed him and what it meant to their "friendship".

House/Wilson Together/Forever House/Wilson Together/Forever

It was around 2:00 AM when House stumbled into the apartment, drunk and most likely high, and eager to collapse onto his soft warm bed. He had almost forgotten completely that Wilson was also living with him. He remembered when he saw his friend asleep on the couch and sighed in relief. He didn't want to face lecture that he knew was coming. So he slinked into his bedroom and closed the door.

House/Wilson Together/Forever House/Wilson Together/Forever

The next morning Wilson found his shaver and shaving cream on the bathroom counter and he smiled. House, although not all the way there and down-to-earth understood what it was like to need to shave. He shaved away the stubble and smiled at his reflection telling himself that he was in for a good day. Although he didn't see House at all that morning he knew that he would see House at lunch. He made sure to bring enough money for two lunches and rushed out the door. As soon as House heard the door close he made his way to the bathroom to fight off the hangover.

That day around noon House was still in his office head slumped onto his desk, exhausted. It's amazing how much energy can be drained thinking about what you don't want to think about. Suddenly there was a soft rapping on his door, and he looked up, blue eyes glazed over. And there he was. The man he just wanted to avoid…but never could. Wilson, with two plates of food from the cafeteria and a smile on his face.

House stood up and walked shakily to the door where he opened it, but didn't step out of the way to have his friend enter, "What do you want?"

Wilson's face fell and he lifted the plates and stated, "I brought food. You haven't eaten in a while and I want to talk to you, House,"

House sighed deeply and looked somewhere over his friend's shoulder and said in a monotone voice, "If it's about last night I'll take the food and close the door,"

Wilson sighed and walked through the narrow space into the office, setting the plate of Mexican food on the desk and sitting down on the chair, "Please House. We have to talk about this. It's not going to just get up and walk away,"

House slumped his shoulders and walked under Wilson's gaze to his black leather seat, and collapsed into it, "No, but I wish you would."

The friend's response was just a simple shaking of the head and a bite of the rice that was placed on the center of the plate. He deep down hoped House had meant the kiss to mean something but it was becoming less and less likely with every passing second. He locked eyes with his friend and smiled hopefully, "Please House. I'm concerned,"

"What the hell should you be concerned about?" House stammered as he took a hungry bite from his chicken taco. "The fact that I kissed my best friend? That I can't get my mind off how soft your lips are and how much I want to let you pick up the pieces of my heart but they are locked away? Is that it Mister Impossible?"

Wilson stared at his friend in shock. He had just indirectly confessed his unedifying love for him and said it without a hint of sarcasm. He was more concerned then ever but he just continued to stare at House. "Please House. Are you saying that you have…feelings for me?"

House exhaled through his nose and looked at Wilson dead on with those piercing blue eyes and shrugged one shoulder as if unsure of how this would impact his life. He wanted to scream at his friend…to tell him to go away…that he was confused…but he couldn't. All he could do was move his shoulder up and down once.

Wilson put a hand on that shoulder and smiled apologetically at House, "House. I am sorry about what I said. I didn't know that these feelings were buried in your heart. If I had known…"

House was chewing on his taco and looking in his brown chocolate eyes and feeling a warmness swell in his chest. He couldn't quite place it. He had only felt this way when he was with Stacy. He wanted to call it love but when its love you can't hear what they are saying to you. He heard every word from Wilson's sad mouth, and he just wanted him to smile again. "I am sorry for last night. I had to clear my conscience from the dream," he replied taking a sip from his water bottle that was left over from the day before.

Wilson smiled, making House feel a little more at ease, and nodded as he bit into the rice, "Where exactly did you go?"

House smirked and leaned back in the chair, his meal half eaten and responded, "Do you really want to know the answer to that?"

Wilson shook his head after thinking a bit, laughter sparkling all over his face in the mid-afternoon light, "No. Now that I think about it. No I don't." He felt happier with himself now that he had talked to House about the night before but something else was gnawing at him. If only he could name what it was…


	10. New Love A Poem

_**A/N: Poem about Love that I thought you might like. It made me think of House and Wilson when I wrote it and I hope you enjoy it. Again I am dearly sorry I haven't updated in so long but my computer has been a stupid evil thing that gives me life. Did everyone enjoy House in the CIA? I found it hilarious! But I do hate that blonde woman that he was flirting with! Whatever happened to Wilson? Huh? Anyway…enjoy and tell me what you think…**_

New Love:

New love can start as beautiful as a sunrise,

Slowly but steadily it peaks over the horize',

It peaks over the mountain range,

As two hearts learn to change,

As it raises into the open blue,

Everything appears to be new,

Colours become Techni-colour, sounds become music,

Love is everywhere no one ever feels at all sick,

The sky ahead isn't full of clouds,

Love showing up in random rounds,

Let us allow this sun to glow,

Let us allow our love to grow,

For there is always a reason,

For the sun to stay in season,

The sun, our love, will never go down,

Because our hearts have been found

We do not wish to be in the dark,

We wish to be the next Lewis and Clark,

I want to map out your heart,

Put together part by part,

Hand in hand we won't loose place,

As long as a happy smile remains on face,

We will make it through each day,

No matter what anyone may say,

I will always be madly in love with you,

Our skies will always remain blue


	11. Better Days with You

Chapter Ten/Eleven: Better Days with You

Wilson took another bite of his spicy mid-afternoon meal, chewing on the food and digesting on what House and he were discussing. He was stressing himself out by keeping a lot of words and feelings inside. Taking another rushed bite he just kept his head down for a while.

House sensing some awkwardness radiating off his friend like heat, and leaned forward and whispered, "What's wrong? Is there something buzzing through that head of yours besides which patient to give chemo to?"

Wilson looked up, a slight grin on his clean-shaven face, and just shook his head from side to side. He felt happy to be with his best friend, if only for a moment. Before that nagging thought came back into his head…._If I were to fix House's wounded heart…would he allow me into it?_

_[House and Wilson deserve each other and you know it! Reply if you think so! _

Later that evening, the odd couple was back at their nest, making dinner. Yes, you heard me, they were _both_ making dinner. Wilson was pouring some marinara sauce over some lasagna noodles and House was ripping up some lettuce leaves for a salad. Hey, I said they were _making_ dinner, not that House was anywhere near the stove. As soon as Wilson put the pot of near boiling sauce down on the counter House did the unthinkable, he picked up a spoon and taste-tested it.

Unfortunately, it was near boiling which caused major pain and surprise to his poor tongue. In a flash House dropped the spoon on the floor, causing some of the sauce to splash on his hand, and was running to the sink to run his burned hand under some cold water. Wilson's brown eyes widened in surprise and he ran to House's aid, "You alright? I don't think I have ever seen you run so fast…"

Wilson started to laugh, a beautiful carefree sound rarely heard by human ears. On House's cheek there was a streak of sauce and a crooked smile. "What are you laughing at? I almost got second degree burns from your sauce of death," but he kept on smiling just the same.

Wilson took this sober opportunity to lean over and wipe up the sauce, over the stubbled cheek and the lips of his friend and then bring the finger to his mouth to taste-test it himself. "Not bad. You bring a new flavour to the sauce that I have never tasted." House shook his head and rolled his brilliant blue eyes celingward. His amused friend ended up putting the beautifully layered pasta dish into the oven.

The table was set for two with some of the china House had inherited from his grandmother in England and they sat down while the lasagna baked in the oven. They planned on not drinking any alcohol that night but House figured that a little red wine could help make the pasta taste better…or something like that.

House poured red a large serving into each of the deep-throated glasses and looked at his best friend expectantly. Wilson sighed shakily; arms folded, but eventually caved in, clinking glasses with his friend. They drank deeply the grapey flavour washing over them once more.

House started clicking his tongue in the silence, falling back on his old habits of boredom. Wilson couldn't take it any longer he had to return what House had brought to him. Without any warning whatsoever he blurted out, "House…I think I love you too!"

House did a double take to his best friend to make sure that he didn't have a smile on his face, and that he wasn't smoking any illegal drug, and then leaned across the table to whisper, "Any louder and you would've woken up Saturn," Wilson's cheeks burned in humiliation and he poured himself more wine to bury himself in.

House sighed deeply, drank deeply, and then stared deeply into Wilson's hazy brown eyes, and then allowed a small smile to creep across his face before answering, "James. You know me better than almost anybody I have ever met. Including Stacey. There are just some things between us that can't be denied. If you have feelings for me…" _Deep Breath Here…"_I think you and I can work something out,"

Wilson took another deep swallow from his wineglass getting both drunker and more confused by the second. _Did House just agree to what I think he just agreed to? Is the infamous Gregory House ready to deal with the womanizer James Wilson? Is the James Wilson ready for the Gregory House? _He was stressing himself out again. Running a shaking hand through his brown hair, he sighed deeply resting his head on the table.

House noticed the stress on his best friend and got up from behind the table. He hobbled over to his piano where he sat down on the bench. His fingers lay on the ivory keys where they started to dance along in the familiar tune of _Better Days_ by the Goo Goo Dolls. Of course he had learned how to play it in his spare time, and it showed by his mastery over all the notes. Wilson slowly raised his head from the table where he looked at House dead on.

House smirked invitingly, eventually hinting that he wanted Wilson to join him over at the bench. Wilson stood up and walked over where he sat down snugly on the bench next to his best friend. House continued to play throughout the song, but never attempting to sing. His notes and timing were perfect and all the while he looked at Wilson a few times. When the song completed, he turned to Wilson expectantly, as if anticipating applause.

What Wilson did was better than a standing ovation from everyone in the New Jersey state area. He smiled, deeply and passionately, a look on his face that could only be love, and leaned forward and placed his lips gently on those of the pianists. House didn't pull away this time, for it would have been too painful afterwards, and instead returned the favour. Kisses. Sweet kisses. And better days lay ahead.

_**A/N: What do you think? Be as honest as you want. I need your feedback. I will add more romance in the upcoming chapters I promise. Is it too soon for them to…um…explore each other? Be honest now! I will not spare any details or any comments from anyone. I hope everyone also enjoyed the episode last night. He looked almost caring didn't he? Have a great week ya'll and be sure to write something for me. Anything. Something I need to improve on. Good things. Bad things. I don't care!**_


	12. I Hope You Know How Much I Love You

Chapter Twelve: I Hope You Know How Much I Love You

_**A/N: Please during this time turn off all cellular phones and radios. These electronics will be returned to you after the show and I hope you enjoy it. Please do not be afraid to cheer on our boys as they…um…do stuff…yeah…that's it…do stuff. Oh and thanks to all those who gave in their output to how this should go. I am happy to get any suggestions from anyone. Hope you like it!**_

House couldn't believe what was happening. It was as if he was living someone else's dream. Someone who was not him. Someone who deserved to be happy. Someone who loved. _Wait a second!_ His mind lunged forward into an abyss surrounded by love, and Wilson and he felt happy, and loved for the first time in almost seven years. _Yes this is what happiness is…_He wanted to experience that warmth again, more than he wanted anything in his whole life. He kissed Wilson's soft gentle lips again…hiding his broken, fragile heart no longer.

Wilson could feel all of House's repressed love and devotion in the kiss. It was almost over powering kissing the man who he considered his best friend but he led on, never abandoning those blazing blue eyes or smooth lips. He would never forgive himself if he were to turn his back on love again. It would tear him apart from the inside out. The kisses were gentle escapes from the reality of being friends; it led them to the land of being lovers.

House shifted on the black ebony piano bench so his leg could stretch out and so his friend had more comfort. The warmth that their bodies were giving off could light a small flame. Time to turn up the heat. He pulled away from the kiss to rest his forehead on Wilson's shoulder. The concerned owner of the shoulder patted the back of the other and asked in a slightly out of breath tone, "Are you alright?"

House looked up breathing heavy himself, mostly in pain but it had some passion mixed in with every intake of air. He responded, love shining in his blue eyes, a smile on his moist lips, "Can…we please…get somewhere...more comfortable?"

Wilson looked at him a blank expression and whispered as though someone would find them in the room kissing, "Like the bedroom?"

House took another pained breath and looked into Wilson's deep brown eyes, eye contact wavering, and said shakily, "Anywhere. My leg needs…more support…" Without another word Wilson got up from the piano bench, rushed over to the cane that was left on the table, and ran to the piano bench once more, handing the cane to the needing hand. House stood up wobbly and looked at Wilson in gratitude, a beautiful rare smile for the gruff face.

"Do you need help?" Wilson's doctor mode taking over again, nervous about how House was acting. House shook his head and limped his way to the bedroom, with Wilson close behind. Wilson asked like an innocent child wanting to know who Santa Claus _really_ was, "Where are we going?" House chuckled, a peaceful sound, and looked at his friend dead-on, "You're kidding right?" Wilson shook his head slowly, innocently, and confused with every new movement.

House sighed deeply, his blue icy eyes melting into deep blue puddles of happiness, and mumbled, "Come on Wilson. My leg needs support and your lips need kissing. The bedroom can fulfill both our needs," Wilson tensed up as if asked to don a chicken costume and run around in circles. "Are you talking about…what I think you're talking about?" he heard his shaking voice ask. House just kept walking until he could jump onto his bed comfortably and expelling a cry of pain relief.

Wilson rushed into the bedroom, overly tense and clenched as if House was dying in the room and he couldn't help him, "Are you okay?" House sat up in bed, laughing playfully and grabbed the tie that hung around his friend's neck and whispered right into the ear of the lover he had grown to love, "I am more than okay…time to make you more than okay too," Without saying anything Wilson fell onto the bed next to his friend and stared into the aquamarine eyes. "Now now. What to do with you?" House snarled playfully tracing a finger down Wilson's chest.

Wilson was glancing at his friend-turned-lover as if he had never seen him before. Which he hadn't…in a way. He had never seen House look so needy, so desperate for that contact. That neediness was feeding his soul but now it was time to feed his heart. House kissed him again this time with a hint of roughness behind the smooch. The roughness was attached to a tight squeeze around the waist by Wilson which made him turn away to laugh. He was still getting used to the fact that he was kissing his best friend. The man who had helped him through rough patches and he had done the same. Wilson took his best friend's lead and kissed him again…this time with his own flavour of roughness.

They kissed like they didn't know what love was, and they had to find out. They were mapping out the course of their love with every new kiss, new touch, and new grasp. House slowly and carefully rolled on top of Wilson where he looked down at him with a grin and a sparkle in his eyes.

House's experienced manly hands found their way to the tie of the day and gently removed it…this time when the other man was awake enough to enjoy it. The fingers of that hand traced little circles down to the shirt where they unbuttoned one by one exposing the chest he had seen a few days previously.

Wilson's hands were busy too, with House's buttons. It was starting to get chilly in New Jersey so House had begun to wear layers again. While House lay on top of the oncologist, Wilson pulled off the button down top that House always wore over a T-shirt. As if House had planned all this to happen, he was wearing the concert shirt he had bought himself a few days before. The blue eyes met the brown in approval and then both shirts were thrown in a heap on the floor; naked chests finally pressing together at last.

"Are you okay up there? Is your leg hurting at all?" Wilson's concerned voice whispered somewhere near House's earlobe. His answer was as simple as it possibly could be; House started kissing down Wilson's chest. A long drawn out moan issued from the lips of Wilson as he stared up at the ceiling, eyes closing in heated passion. The kisses were gentle as a butterflies and when they reached the belly button House's head raised with a sincere smirk on face. He bent down once more and unbuckled his friend turned lovers belt with his teeth.

_What the hell is going on James? What have you gotten yourself into? You do realize that you are the sheep and House is the wolf right? Oh dear…this shall be interesting. SHUT UP! _Wilson's consciences were fighting again…once again over House. He blocked the voices out as he put his hands on House's hips, and unbuttoned the jeans that House had always comfortably wore. House raised his head again, this time to look right into Wilson's chocolate eyes. The look was one of passion, need, and love swirled together in a mass of blue eyes and a faint smile. They stared into each others eye for a deep long moment as if debating to carry on. Their love got the best off them…pants soon joined the pile of clothes on the floor.

The look on their faces was _almost _priceless. Both men for almost all their lives considered themselves members of the gene pool. But now they were the people who sunbathed outside the gene pool with pretty drinks in colourful glasses. They enjoyed the sun to say the least.

House could hardly believe how much love his body could show and Wilson could hardly believe how much love his body could receive. House reached down in between they're heaving bodies and tugged on the white elastic that kept Wilson's underwear snug around is waist. The underwear seemed to melt off of the both of them until they were completely and utterly pressing against each other. Nothing holding them back anymore they started to rock and grind.

House, being on top pushed gently and carefully as if unsure of his abilities. The pain in his leg was sky-rocketing but so was his pleasure. His only concern was that Wilson was getting as much out of their love that he was. It had to be so because with every new thrust there would be a new moan from Wilson's lips. It was as if someone had erased all other experiences with other people and they had found and touched each other for the first time. The moans and rough breathing echoed in the empty house and both kept going.

As far as lovers go, they were surprisingly gentle the first…and the second time with Wilson on top carefully avoiding the pain that he knew House was under. The years of hiding caused them to enjoy their time, and take it slowly as if cherishing a rare gem. After Wilson rolled off House and looked at him square in the eye, chest heaving, paused before eventually whispering in a soft motherly tone, "Greg….I hope you know how much I love you…" House's response was to kiss Wilson's salty cheeks and lips and a small chuckle before whispering just as lovingly, "I do know. My days will always be better with you around to heal me,"

_**A/N standing there overly tense and in need of sleep and comments So what did you guys think? I took advice from anyone I could….and this was the result. I just hope that I didn't disappoint anyone. Any suggestions are welcome at this point. I just hope that I am not becoming too cliché with my work either. Oh yeah! In this story it's around October time so if you have any ideas with that I am all ears. Please comment and as always have a great House/Wilson day! Happy Thanksgiving to all of you in America! **_


	13. A Watched Heart Never Breaks

Chapter Thirteen: A Watched Heart Never Breaks

House and Wilson were lying in bed, halfway between taking a nap and being awake. Being in each others arms had never been more comfortable. House was gazing dreamily at the side of Wilson's neck while Wilson's closed eyes dreamt of the man he loved. When House's ocean-blue eyes finally drooped shut his ears heard a loud annoying beeping.

Instinctively, House reached his arm lazily over to the alarm clock to turn it off, but that wasn't the source of the noise. The buzzing got louder and more annoying by the time House and Wilson's eyes were both opened. It defiantly wasn't coming from the bedroom.

In a flash Wilson got out of the bed, threw his pants on, not bothering with something as insignificant as a zipper or button and burst into the kitchen. House sat up in bed, blinking a few times, and eventually letting his eyes fall to the clock. _7:30_ Time to wake up…but he didn't recall it getting dark and the sun rising _that_ fast.

In the kitchen, Wilson was donning oven mitts as carefully and delicately as if they were doctor gloves. By the time he had opened the oven and placed the steaming glass pan of lasagna on the table, House had limped his way into the kitchen wearing jeans and a smile. "We forgot about the dinner didn't we?" His smug lips sounded out slowly.

Wilson removed the oven mitts, grinned at House, and grabbed the serving spatula, starting to cut servable pieces. It caused House to limp over to the table, wrap his arms around his lover's waist in a backwards hug. Wilson chuckled continuing to cut up the pasta dish, and moan out, "You're still not done with me are you?" House's hands found their way to the front of Wilson's dress pants, where they took the zipper and zipped it up. The button was done and he stepped away from the hug smiling proudly.

"For a second there I was worried," Wilson chuckled, his face burning a shade a pink matching a flamingo. House sat down to the table pouring some more wine into their glasses, and serving the lasagna to the plates in front of them. He raised his wine glass with Wilson's when his friend sat down. "To…friendship…and stuff…" House said as the crystal clinked together. "You call what we did in there friendship?" Wilson snickered.

House sipped more wine and started to cut into his pasta dish that almost burned, his mouth eventually finding the words, "No. It was love. No denying it. I love you James," Wilson smiled, grateful House could finally say the "l" word and took a bite of House's House Salad before returning the favor, "I love you too Greg. Thanks for being here for me," House smiled again, looking at his friend and shaking his head as if to say _No problem. _They were two bachelors alright. Two bachelors who had found love in each others hearts.

:House and Wilson:House and Wilson:House and Wilson:House and Wilson:

Going to bed was easy…Wilson took House's bed and House took Wilson's…for a while at least. House lay on the black sofa, staring at the ceiling and thinking things over all by himself. That's what he told himself he needed anyway time to sort some things out. Staring at the dark ceiling he was reminded of how his heart used to be like that. Dark, empty, lacking the brightness of another. Then he was reminded of Wilson when a small ray of the moon's light streamed in through the window. Wilson was the light that shined on House's heart and he had finally found it.

Tossing and turning on a small couch with a crippled leg wasn't fun or pain free. House eventually, and with a heavy heart, got up from the couch, grabbed his flame cane from the couch's soft arm, and limped to the door of his bedroom. With a sigh and a downwards look at his bare feet, he knocked on the door.

There was a shuffling behind the door and then it opened to reveal a moonlit Wilson with a smile on his tired face. House looked up into those moon-shadowed eyes that he had grown to cherish and returned an awkward smile. "Not so comfortable is it?" Wilson's groggy voice said as he leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. House laughed silently in the gloom and shook his head. Wilson glanced backward to the unmade bed big enough to hold two fully grown men, and stepped out of the way invitingly.

House didn't need an invitation he hobbled his way into the room that was rightfully his, leapt onto the bed, put the cane on the bed-post and smiled gleefully, lying there with his hands behind his head. Wilson rolled those brown eyes towards the ceiling laced with moonbeams, and climbed into bed right next to House. Without words or thinking they faced each other and kissed once more. A sweet tender tired kiss that led to nothing more than each man holding onto the other, in a deep embrace. They fell asleep like that…without a worry or a concern in the world. Sweet dreams followed that only two lovers can share. It was a good life…

_**A/N And so the adventure continues. I am thinking of writing in a Halloween party at the hospital. I know it is a bit late for me to write about the autumn holidays but I didn't think House and Wilson's love would take so long to fully bloom. But eventually it will catch up. Do you guys have any ideas for their costumes? It will be fun in the next chapter to see our boys go costume shopping but I just need a few ideas to go on…If not I will think of something. Have a great day and leave your comment at the door. It's greatly appreciated as always. Lurve, Christina**_


	14. Desperate Shopping Meant for Specialists

Chapter Fourteen: Desperate Shopping Is Meant for Specialists

Dreaming. It's a simple process. Doctors would explain it as the brain shooting off random bursts of neurons to other random neurons in the brains way of sorting out what happened the day before. Lovers could explain it as simply the time to recharge their batteries and to dream of each other. If they happen to be doctors and lovers…well it was just another time to think of each other.

Through dreams House dreamt he was riding through an endless country side on his motorcycle. It was peaceful and calming but at the same time thrilling. The wind, the sights, no pain in his leg or in his now full loved heart…it all felt amazing! His dreams were the only place where he could sort out what happened the day before without meaningless distractions like pain or Cuddy. He swerved down another dirt path allowing is mind to fill with thought.

Wilson's dream was slightly less comforting. He kept seeing his ex-wives' faces everywhere he looked. He looked at a billboard on his drive to work and there was his first wife advertising for mouthwash. Blinking the image from his mind he turned into work. Not that work would help him get his mind off them. Walking in he saw a woman in a clinic waiting room chair that looked exactly like his second wife. He just shook his head and climbed into the elevator as fast as he could. But there they were all three of them talking like best friends and they all looked at him when he walked on. The nightmare was over before it could get worse.

Thankfully an alarm clock's buzzing went off jerking both men awake. House turned to Wilson and Wilson turned to House. They smiled at each other in the morning's glow and leaned forward to kiss each other gently. "How did it feel to sleep next to another body?" Wilson asked House a smug smile on his face. House shrugged his T-shirted shoulder and replied voice a bit groggy, "It's not bad. I am just glad it's _your _body,"

Wilson's ears burned pink and the smile was replaced with a slightly embarrassed grin, while he climbed out of bed. When he was out of it he started folding the edges so his side was perfectly made. House stared at the ceiling, the pain in his leg skyrocketing but he decided to hide the pain the best he could. Wilson looked at him puzzled little pout planted on his calm face, "Are you okay? Can I hop in the shower first?" House glanced at his friend out of the corner of his icy blues, and then nodded swiftly, "Knock yourself out. Just save me some hot water." With a mini-salute Wilson left the room and entered the bathroom.

House let out a long pained breath and reached across the bedside table for a little orange pill canister and opened it. The little yellow pills inside weren't Vicodin but they did the job…for a while at least. He popped them into his eager mouth and slowly let the relief wash over him. It was going to be a long day and it had hardly begun.

(_Later that morning our boys walk/limp up to the hospital)_

"I just don't think it's the right time to…you know…tell people," Wilson said as he approached the hospital door. "We are just finding out some things ourselves," he added with his hand on the door about to open it. House sighed, removing the other earbud from his ear and finally nodded in agreement. "I won't tell anyone that you moved back in," he stated in a slightly annoyed tone.

"Good," Wilson said and with a quick nod he opened the door and stepped into the hospital. The familiar workplace had changed overnight. Orange and black streamers hung on the ceiling along with some false spider webs. A few pumpkins were on the nurses' station and a small candy bowl was placed in the center of it. House stepped inside and allowed his eyes to widen in surprise, and then he turned to Wilson, "Tonight's Halloween isn't it?" The shocked oncologist nodded in return and faced Cuddy's office where she emerged from it, in a black loose dress and witch's hat.

"Why it's the Wicked Witch of the East!" House hollered loud enough for the whole hospital to hear but Cuddy just smiled and continued to walk towards the two men. When she reached them they noticed a black cat brooch on her left shoulder and striped stockings with two shiny red shoes on to fit her character. "Happy Halloween gentlemen," she smiled at the two out-of-it men staring at her.

"Is there a party tonight like last year?" Wilson courageously asked in a slightly embarrassed tone. Cuddy just nodded and smiled some more. House and Wilson rolled their eyes in unison and sighed before House asked one more question further, "And we all have to dress up and put on a happy face for the charity donators?" Cuddy's smile dropped for a second before she said smoothly, "It would be nice if you would,"

Wilson wouldn't have it. Last time he dressed up he went as a teddy bear and no one else dressed up in his department. It was one of the worst nights of his life and he wouldn't face another night like it if he had to. Besides they didn't have costumes. He cleared his throat and looked at Cuddy dead on and stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "We don't have costumes. I guess we will just go to work and go home…right House?" with a sideways glance at House for emphasis. But House was too busy immersed in his own thinking to notice.

Cuddy smiled a cruel smile and patted both their shoulders before whispering to them, "I was prepared for one of you to say that. That is why I have given you an extra hour for your lunch break. _That_ way you can eat _and_ shop for some great costumes," She smirked and then turned her ruby red heels and walk to the nurse's station. Wilson sighed looked down and put a shaking hand to his forehead. House looked at his lover and patted his shoulder in support, "When should the big bad House fall on her and kill her?" Wilson laughed slightly and shook his head, "House," his brown eyes sparkling, "This isn't the _Wizard of Oz_. No house is going to fall on anybody."

_(That fateful lunch break...the men leave the hospital)_

House was on his motorcycle, Wilson was in his car. The plan was to go to the nearest cheapest costume store, nab the nearest cheapest costumes and then leave before they could think twice about anything. They drove both of their minds wandering to random corners of the subconscious. If only every night was like the night before…then life would be better forever.

They found the shop…_Harold's Halloween Supplies_ about five miles away at a little strip mall. House pulled into it closely followed by Wilson. When they got off their motorcycle or got out of their car they turned to each other sighed in annoyance, and walked into the shop of doom.

It was full…very full. Costumes lined the racks and the walls as if the guy had just stocked it that morning. The place also had a musty fabric-like smell as if the costumes had been in boxes for years. They looked around and saw two dressing rooms, motorized bats flying around the ceiling, various props and a balding skinny man behind a counter counting up some money probably made in the last hour. House was looking around the room in child-like wonder. He had found his new favourite store.

The man came out from behind the counter and walked up to the two wide-eyes guys and smiled in greeting. "Welcome to Harold's Halloween Supplies. I am Harold and I am willing to help you with anything. Is there anything you are particularly looking for this afternoon?" House just hobbled his way to the first row where he started leafing through the costumes. Wilson smiled apologetically and then sighed before responding, "Well we are thinking of dressing together. Like things that go together such as Batman and Robin and such,"

House called somewhere by the women's costumes, "But I will _not_ wear spandex!" Harold chuckled and then ushered Wilson to the couple costumes. House grabbed a few costumes and props and slunk his way into a dressing room. Wilson had found a similar costume to the one he wore last year…a teddy bear…and he carefully walked away from it. Harold found a Dr. Watson costume and held it up for Wilson to see, "Is this something you are looking for?" Wilson's eyes and face lit up with a bright smile before he replied, "Do you have a Sherlock Holmes too?"

Before Harold could answer House stepped out of the dressing room in full Pimp garb and strutted over. He had on sunglasses, a leopard print cloak, a purple shirt and black tight pants. The hat and cane matched the cloak and his small smirk fit the whole mood. He also had a dollar sign bling hanging from his neck. Harold laughed and walked a complete circle around his handicapped customer, "Very nice. This seems to suit you. I mean you already walked in here with a cane,"

Wilson shook his head…it just didn't seem to fit his view of House. Sure he could pass as a pimp but Sherlock Holmes was so much more fitting for his friend. They could dress together if they did that. He had to say something. He cleared his suddenly dry throat and said, "House. We should go as Sherlock Holmes and John Watson," House turned his head slowly and eventually nodded. Without another word he grabbed his size of the Holmes costume, turned around and walked back into the dressing room.

Wilson raised his eyebrows in slight surprise, took a Watson costume and walked into a dressing room of his own. Harold smiled and then walked back behind the counter.

He didn't have to stay there very long. Not five minutes later the two customers walked out in their costumes. House made an amazing Sherlock Holmes with the brown plaid petti-coat and brown pants. Complete with a matching hat, pipe, and magnifying glass he was ready to solve mysteries. Wilson stepped out in a brown overcoat with a white shirt underneath. His pants were a mix between brown and black and the costume came complete with a false mustache. Good thing House was Sherlock otherwise no one would know who Wilson was.

Harold smiled as they approached the counter, "See you guys look great!" he exclaimed. House pulled out a hundred dollar bill, paid the man, and left the store. Wilson gave a forced smile and said, "Sorry about my friend. He can be a bit weird at times." Harold just shook his head and handed Wilson the change from the transaction, and stated plainly, "Don't worry. Have a great Halloween!" Wilson nodded, walked back into the dressing rooms, grabbed the clothes that House had forgotten and left the store. It was going to be a long day.

Dr. Chase pulled into the parking lot the moment the two other doctors drove away. As he climbed out of his car he thought to himself…_It was going to be a long day._

_**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. My computer has been acting up and deleting documents randomly again. I don't know if it was a virus or not but it finally decided to let me save a new chapter. What did you guys think? I am sorry if this "Halloween" is a little out-of-date. I mean it's almost Christmas. But I thought it would be funny and I didn't think that their love would take so long to develop. Please let me know what you think and the next chapter will be the Halloween party. Honesty helps!**_


	15. I am NOT Teddy Roosevelt

Chapter Fifteen: I am NOT Teddy Roosevelt

The Halloween party. What a scene to tell around the coffee maker for years to come. The doctors all entered one by one in either couple formations or bravely by themselves. Holmes and Watson entered the hospital right on the dot when the party began. The result was interesting to say the very least.

Cuddy had applied some green make-up to her face, neck, and hands so her costume was complete and she strutted over to House and Wilson…ahem… I mean…Holmes and Watson. She had a clipboard with her as she took down their costumes. She said it out loud as she wrote, 'Sherlock Holmes and…" she looked up at Wilson and looked him over once or twice, "…Theodore Roosevelt. Very interesting choice, James" She said with a wink. House had to put his pipe in his mouth to keep from smiling too widely.

Before Cuddy strutted away to take the others costumes down Wilson called out, "I am NOT Teddy Roosevelt! I'm Dr. Watson!" House couldn't hold in his compressed chuckle anymore. He laughed out, 'You tell 'em," Wilson couldn't stay defensive for long, he looked at his lover and sighed, "Let's get some punch,"

On their way from the doorway to the punch bowl and snack bar set up on a long wooden cafeteria table, they ran into Foreman. Or should we say…they ran into a gorilla dressed as Foreman. He was in full gorilla costume with gloves, two piece suit, padded feet, and painted on face. House was the first to recognize his neurologist and he nodded his head, "Very nice. Very nice," was all he said as he looked him over. Foreman smiled and took a sip from his punch cup and said, "Thank you Holmes," turning to Wilson, "and Teddy,"

Wilson took a deep breath. He was tempted to just rip off his false facial hair that had made him so miserable in the first place but House stepped in, defending him, "Foreman. He is _not_ Teddy Roosevelt. He is Dr. Watson," Wilson looked at Foreman in a slight awkward way and added, "We wanted to dress together," It took the brain specialist a while to make the connection and then he nodded deeply in understanding, "I like it. It suits you too,"

The odd couple smiled and smirked at each other and then looked at Foreman and said together, "Yeah we thought so," Suddenly the door opened and let in a little bit of the chill from outside and Cameron and Chase walked in. The room was cold for a moment but Cuddy walked up to report their costumes nonetheless. Cameron was a half-devil-half-angel in a stunning half white and half red dress. Her headband was a mix of a halo and a set of horns. Her stockings matched the side they were on and Chase's arm was around the devil's side.

Speaking of Chase he was a Prince Charming-Dracula combination. His blond hair was streaked with black, and he had a black cloak over a prince top. The pants were black as night with a small gold design up the right thigh. His fangs, pale face, and small gold crown on his head completed the image. It was interesting and it made almost anyone who looked at him do a double take, including the detective team. The even _odder_ couple walked directly over to the rest of the doctors gathered around the punch cooler and snack bar.

House looked over Cameron and shrugged and glared at Chase, "What are you supposed to be?" Chase poured some punch for him and his date and then looked Sherlock Holmes straight in the eye, "A vampire prince," Holmes nodded and said half-heartedly, "Of course. How could I not have known?"

Cameron smiled at House and Wilson and said as she brought the cup to her ruby red lips, "Cute. Holmes and Watson. Together at last," Wilson's eyes widened and a smile finally played across his lips, "Thank you! Somebody knows who I am!" House laughed and shook his head, leaning in to tell a very confused Cameron, "People have been calling him Theodore Roosevelt all night," Cameron returned the laugh, "That was my second guess,"

Wilson's high couldn't be dropped that easily, he poured himself more punch and took a bite from a pumpkin shaped cookie. Foreman whispered to House, a little louder than normal to be heard over the music, "He knows that doesn't have alcohol in it right?" House could only smile innocently and get some more punch for himself.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()!#$&()!$()!#$&()!#$

As the night went on more people assumed Wilson was the late President he _almost_ resembled. He would just smile and wave them off explaining that he and House went together until they got it. Then they would leave him alone. Wilson got up sometimes to dance to songs like the _Monster Mash_ but he spent most of the evening glued to House's side at a table. Sometimes a donator would come by and they would put on their best act in hopes of raising the hospitals funds. They got two or three people to help for their cause.

House was quiet for most of the evening. He out-of-character complemented a few costumes he saw but spent most of the night drinking his punch and eating his chips and salsa. Wilson got him to talk about what was on his mind…he was nervous. Nervous about his feelings for Wilson. He didn't know if he was right for his best friend anymore. The feelings were strong and they were there, but they were floating around. As the room finally thinned out Wilson got to show House that they were meant for each other. Taking a pamphlet from the evening he hid House and his faces with it and planted a quick kiss on his lover's lips before House could stop him.

Just as quick as it began it was over. The pamphlet was returned to the nurse's desk and Wilson continued to stare at the decorations as if nothing happened. It was a peaceful night and they were both glad that they could be a part of it. It seemed to go too fast though. The next day they would have to dress up for work. But the night had barely begun the moment they walked out the door that evening. They had each other and that is all that mattered.

_**A/N Here I am. Typing up as many chapters as I wanted to while my computer was down. BE honest please with how these chapters are going. I am doing Thanksgiving next and my goal is to make a Christmas chapter by Christmastime. Please comment and have a great day! Much love, Christina.**_


	16. I am Thankful for Giving You Life

Chapter Sixteen: I am Thankful For Giving You Life

Halloween had come and gone as fast as it had come up. The decorations at the hospital were torn down and disposed of to be replaced with harvest items such as leaf wreaths and simple plastic vegetables lining the tables. The main lobby had been swept and mopped and everyone had gone home. House and Wilson included.

As soon as Wilson walked through the door to his joint-owned apartment he finally ripped off the false mustache and slumped onto the couch. House just looked at him, looking him over like his alter-ego Holmes would, and then slumped down next to him. "You alright?" he asked feeling drained and slightly buzzed from the non-alcoholic red punch.

Wilson smiled crookedly and then glanced at his lover and sighed, "I am okay. I just have never been able to create a costume that changed the way people look at me. I either look like an idiot and no one knows who I am, or I make a fool out of myself like last year."

House just glanced at the ceiling absently, and put his prop pipe to his lips and then smirked at his friend, "That is alright James. I didn't even dress up last year," Wilson finally caved in and cracked a self-assured smile. They smiled sideways at each other momentarily in absolute silence except for the occasional car that would drive by outside or the sound of their thundering heartbeats. Soon enough without words from either man, they found their simple way back to the bedroom.

It was as simple as a lovely dream, but even better in real life. House wasted no time at all when he delicately pulled off his lover's overcoat and buttoned shirt. The time wasn't wasted when Wilson did the same with Holmes' petticoat and pants. "Sherlock" had to even the score; he tugged off "Watson's" pants quickly and smoothly in one movement. The kisses were frisky now, now longer gentle messages of affection. They spoke to each other through their movements and their movements demanded they got on with the show.

The underwear practically melting off their heaving sweating bodies and House took control before Wilson could even take a breath in of their love. It was as fast as lightning and just as electrifying when he climbed on top of Wilson and started to shove nor-so-gently as he did before.

The other man gasped in surprise and pleasure and just reeled his head back, his back arching against House's bare chest. House groaned and grumbled, "Don't tense…up so much…" Wilson felt almost every one of his muscles tense up under House and he tried to will himself to breath and unclench. The thrusts were sending lightning bolts down his spine and he moaned with every new one. House eventually gave up and rolled off him, only to give Wilson an opening to continue the dirty work. The legend says neither one slept that night.

_Thanksgiving Day!_

One of the less fortunate things about being a doctor is being forced to work on holidays when you much rather be home relaxing. Such is the case of House and Wilson. House was in his office right after his lunch break with Wilson. They had enjoyed some of the cafeteria's fine cuisine…a turkey breast, a small volcano of mashed potatoes with a lava flow of gravy, and a buttery biscuit. They toasted with bubbly grape juice in little plastic champagne glasses House found stashed in his office. It was a good meal full of laughter and joy, but it would have been _so_ much better at home.

House was throwing his tennis ball up towards the ceiling and catching it. One of the less fortunate things about being a diognostian is the limited cases. He was bored. He was lonely. And due to the turkey he was beginning to get sleepy and he was a little disorientated. It showed…he missed every other catch.

Wilson came in about 20 missed catches later with a small frown on his face. From the looks of it, he had lost another patient. House caught the ball and looked at his friend and sighed, "What's wrong James? Are you alright?" Wilson just crossed his arms and sighed a deep held-in breath of his own and looked at House like a puppy you had just lost his owner. Eventually he said in a numb tone, "I have to show you," With that he left the office followed shortly behind by his lover.

Wilson led the way…right to the cancer ward. This was never a good sign. He rarely took House to the cancer ward unless they were working on the same patient together. Wilson took a deep breath in front of one room, adjusted his tie, and walked inside. House followed, unprepared to what he would see.

In the bed was a small little girl who couldn't be more than eight. All though all of her hair had fallen out she still had the freckles and wide green eyes that had made her so beautiful to begin with. She was hooked up to almost every machine the hospital had to offer and next to her bed was her mother with the same green eyes but she had long red hair. When Wilson entered the woman looked up and House could see the pain in her eyes. She got up and shuffled over to Wilson where they talked quietly to one another. House took this time to sit by the patient's bed.

The little girl turned her small delicate face to House's and braved a smile. She spoke in a powerfully frail voice that only belonged to the sick, "Happy Thanksgiving," House's eyes showed pity but his mouth showed a smile when he replied, "Thank you…and happy Turkey Day to you too," The little girl laughed gently as a butterfly would and looked up at the two people talking before asking House, "What are they talking about?"

House could hear faint whisperings about unplugging the patient and giving up on her treatment but he translated them to, "Well…from the sound of it they are discussing what you can eat for dinner." He was an experienced liar when he had to be. Wilson nodded and walked over to the side of the bed where he spoke on a gentle kind tone, "Kaylin. We are going to start you on a different treatment but if it doesn't work…we may have to pull the plug. Do you understand?"

Kaylin looked up at her doctor with absolute bravery and understanding with a small tear in the corner of her deep forest green eyes and said, "I am thankful for you doing all you could Dr. Wilson." Wilson looked at House for less than a second and then smiled at his young patient, 'Thank you Kaylin. I am thankful for giving you life as long as I could," The oncologist stood to his full height, nodded at Kaylin's sobbing mother and left the room before he too, lost it. House followed close behind and looked at Wilson.

The brown eyes were full of wet tears and before he could stop himself he fell into House's welcoming warm arms. One of them needed the comfort today…the day of thankfulness. House held on the best he could and whispered into Wilson's ear, "I am thankful for you giving me life too, James." Wilson just held on and let the innocent tears fall onto House's shirt, not caring or noticing where they landed. Thankfulness is all about being there for the people who need you. And House had just proved that.

_**A/N: Here it is…Thanksgiving! Yeah sorry for the depressing ending but I just watched this sad documentary on really young cancer patients and it broke my heart. I hope Willy-boy will be okay. Please submit an honest comment and have a great day. I have been having pretty rough ones lately so I just hope everyone else's go smoothly out there in this big BIG world. **_


	17. Merry Holidays Lover!

Chapter Seventeen: Merry Holidays Lover!

Thanksgiving was just another day for our boys. They came home from work, maybe drank a few more glasses of wine than normal, but that is pretty much it. They did however discuss what Wilson was so sad earlier that day. House figured Wilson was just semi-overacting to seeing another patient _almost_ die under his hand. Either that or his anti-depression meds weren't working. Either way House allowed Wilson to talk about whatever it may be that hung over him that kept him from being happy.

Wilson spoke of stress, of anxiety, and of heartache. And of how badly he wanted to insure that Kaylin got to live as possible. House tried to be sympathetic and understanding, all while downing more red wine by the passing minute. It seemed to work…by the end of their conversation House was buzzed and unable to remember what was just spoken about and Wilson was glowing with a newly found happiness.

Whatever the reason may be they made their way to the bedroom after a quick meal of Chinese take-out and went straight to sleep. House doesn't even remember hitting the pillow to this day but oh well…Wilson was smiling again…

_House and Wilson…Equals True Love Forever and For Always…That and Cookies!_

The turkeys were stuffed in freezers all around the country only to be thawed and be used as sandwich meats, soup ingredients, or shish kabobs. House and Wilson didn't have anything to do with these culinary traditions…they had turkey at the hospital. Many patients may come and go but you always have your lover by your side.

The snow had started to fall in the first week of December covering the hospital grounds with white fluffy blankets of nature's marshmallow crème. House didn't like the snow…it meant he had to drive his car to work. _Stupid black ice…if it wasn't for you I could cruise to Atlantic City and back on my lunch break_. He thought bitterly as he climbed out of his car one frosty morning.

Wilson was already at work when House hobbled into the building. He was in the lobby giving out candy canes to the children of cancer patients…dressed as St. Nick himself. House walked by and laughed silently to himself thinking _That poor soul…in that stuffy costume surrounded by little kids. _He climbed onto the elevator and closed the shut door button with the end of his flame cane. But the door was caught by a black leather glove.

Wilson stepped onto the elevator and as soon as the door closed he tore off the white beard that had become part of his work clothes and smiled at House. House just glanced at the suddenly clean-shaven Santa Claus and jumped in surprise. _"James?" _Wilson nodded and handed over the beard and said with a smile, "My shift's over. It's your turn lover!" House gripped onto the beard like it was the source of all things bad and shook his head. Wilson smiled, leaned forward to whisper to House right as the elevator came to a stop, "Cuddy says that if we do this we don't have to do clinic until next year,"

House had the beard attached to his scruffy chin since Wilson said the words "Don't have to do clinic," He led Wilson back to his office where shades were drawn and outfits were changed. Wilson giggled, "Don't you think people will notice I am wearing your clothes?" House just pulled up the red suitpants with a wide grin on his face, "Nah," he said and pulled on the suitshirt, "Just stay behind closed doors. No one will notice. Do that damn paperwork that keeps us from having fun at night," Wilson's face burned pink as he hid it behind House's Rolling Stones T-shirt.

They stood there…the doctor becoming Santa and Santa becoming the rebel…in complete amazement to each other they left the office. The only thing that seemed a little off to the passersby was that Santa walked with a slight limp and his non-rebel looking friend carried the cane in his arms. House arrived at the clinic and stayed there until 1:30. Or until he ran out of candy canes. Or when he ran out of patience. Or patients.

_**A/N There is a little pun work on those last few lines. Hope you enjoyed House the Santa. It came to me while doodling a candy cane on my notebook today. I just had to use it somehow. No worries my friends there will be more holiday chapters to come…at least until Friday. On Friday I will be leaving to somewhere where computers can not be accessed. If that means me writing a New Years chapter two weeks into the New Year so be it. I am dearly sorry if it takes me a while to update. Until then…I love you all and Happy Holidays!**_


	18. Merry Holidays Lover! Part Two

**_Quick Note: Thanks to all the people who have chosen this story for Favourite Story or Story Alert. I appriecate all of my returning readers as well. You guys make it all worth while!_**

Chapter Eighteen: Happy Holidays Lover! Part Two

That same week in December House came home from work to see Wilson doing another holiday ritual…lighting up his Menorah. House hung up his coat, scarf, and hat in the closet and then limped over to Wilson with a look of confused puzzlement on his face. Wilson broke out of his trace for a brief moment to smile at his lover and then he blew out his lit match. House blinked slightly and then asked the question on his mind, "Aren't you only half Jewish?"

Wilson smiled patiently at his lover and then walked into the kitchen where he pulled a steaming pot of bean chili off the stove and set it on the table. House gaped at him awkwardly and then sat down, "You made dinner too?" Wilson sat down and served House some of the hot stew. "Yes I made dinner. And yes I am only half-Jewish." He set the bowl in front of House and then started to serve himself before completing his thought, "The good half,"

House could only smile as he brought the spoon to his mouth and thought to himself…_It is good to be home_. Wilson was looking at House with all of his attention, with a look of anticipation on his face, until House swallowed the bite of the stew. "So?" Wilson heard himself say as House lowered his spoon. House rolled his baby blue eyes and then said with utmost honesty, "It's delicious…relax okay?" With that he brought his lips to Wilson's and they shared a passionate kiss.

When they pulled away Wilson finally relaxed and started to eat his own meal. Without a second thought House served himself more of the warm dish. His brown-eyed lover managed to ask in a hesitant small voice, "Are you sure it's okay?" The blue eyes softened as the mouth received another mouthful and then said, "It's wonderful. Why wouldn't it be? You made it," Wilson shrugged and played with his spoon between his fingers, "Well it has no meat. I thought that would bother you,"

House laughed, a carefree beautiful sound rarely heard, and just stated while raising his water glass to his mouth, "It is very good. It doesn't need the hamburger. Can you please relax?" The brown eyes lowered to the napkined lap and then Wilson finally sighed. House patted his friend's back before indulging in the flavour once again. Wilson was able to eat in peace only when House went for thirds of the stew.

!#$&()!#$&()!#$&())!#$&()!#&()!#$&()!$

After their dinner the boys went about their evening routines. House poured a glass of red wine and sat behind his piano where he played freely. The notes told s story of how his day was and how he was feeling without his Vicodin. It was a melodramatic slow-paced song. Wilson was watching him from the other side of the room…on the black sofa. He has something on his mind but he didn't know how to ask it. He wanted to know what House wanted for Christmas without actually asking him.

House eventually paused to take a long sip of wine and when he put down the half-drained glass back on the ebony he locked yes with Wilson. The brown met the blue with the familiar passion they has shared over the past few months…but there was something hidden behind the brown eyes. "What's wrong James?" House's voice echoed across the apartment.

Wilson looked ceilingward and then finally asked the question that had been super-glued to his shoulder all week, "What do you want for Christmas?" House paused for a second as if the room suddenly changed temperature and got up from the piano. Setting down the wine-glass he limped over to Wilson where he smiled that dangerously seductive smile. He bent down to take Wilson's now loosened tie in his nimble fingers and pulled the man he loved close to him, "You," was all he said before burying his lips into Wilson's once more burning the passion candle between the two of them.

The couch was comfortable for a while until once again House's leg needed more support and they found their way to the bedroom. After an hour or so of fun House finally smiled over at and exhausted Wilson and said, "As long as you are here to celebrate with me…you can get me anything you want," Wilson could only smile and close his eyes and think to himself…_It's good to be loved_.

_**A/N Hello after such a long wait. If you ever did get a response from me it was from a family member's iPhone. And for those who are not familiar with those little devices I have you know that they do not have Word documents. I am glad to be home where I can access the internet and an empty document at the same time. Please tell me what you think of this chapter. There will be possibly one more Holiday chapter and a New Years one before I run out of ideas. (For a while at least) Please leave a comment at the door and have a great day. I hope everyone enjoyed the holidays! My other story will be updated as soon as possible. **_


	19. Beary Christmas to You!

Chapter Nineteen: A Bear-y Christmas to You!

As Christmastime drew nearer by the second the hospital and our boys went through many changes. House never dressed like Santa again. Besides he was home-free of clinic duty until 2008. Two weeks of sweet freedom just for dressing like a jolly old elf. He lay in his office one snowy afternoon, eyes drooping shut to the soft sound of piano music coming from his iPod stereo in the corner, day-dreaming of Wilson. It felt strangely good to be in love. Then with a start, he sat up aquamarine eyes wide with worry. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and he hadn't even thought of what to buy for Wilson.

He didn't care what Cuddy would say if she caught him sneaking out of work early. He was more concerned what Wilson would say. Grabbing his cane and the bottle of yellow pain-pills off his desk; he burst from his office eager to get to the mall; and see what it had in store for the man he no longer considered his best friend...but his lover. House darted this way and that past dying people he would have normally diagnosed under different, less nerve-racking, circumstances. He eventually made it to his car where he hopped in, fastened the seat belt, bolted out of the parking lot as fast as his 15 year old tires could take him.

House reached the mall, and stared at it. It was packed with last minute shoppers like himself. He stared at it some more as if expecting the building's windows to blink like human eyes. Taking a deep breath (and a pain pill while he was at it) he got out of the car and locked it behind him. This was going to be a hell…but he's been through worse.

He limped as fast as his poor leg would carry him through the automatic doors and looked around. Women's clothes and undergarments. Not good enough for a man of Wilson's standards. James was already married to that three times. House continued to limp. He hobbled past the women's clothes, and the teenage clothes, and even the men's clothes until he had made it to the mall center. The Tie Tent was almost smiling at him…or _was_ it the salesman that knew House from all the other previous Christmases? Either way the tall, spiky haired, twenty-something approached House with a gimmicking smile on his face and a hope for a sale in his heart.

"Not this year Steve," House said as he kept on limping towards the directory. Steve's smile fell. Slightly…only slightly before it burst out onto his face again stronger than ever.

"Are you sure Dr. House? We have a big sale on seasonal ties this year." Steve persisted. House turned when he reached the directory a slight squint hidden in his eyes and a scowl on his lips.

"I said. Not this year Steve." He said in a dangerous low voice that only belonged to a man on a mission. Steve just looked down, hands on his uniformed hips in thought, before he said in a sing-song voice, "I could give you the senior citizen's discount,"

House looked at Steve with cold blue eyes and snarled, "Not. This. Year. Steve. I am getting him something I bit more personal than I tie. Besides," he added with an icy smile on his face to match, "I am not a senior citizen yet," He raised his walking stick for emphasis, "This is only to impress the ladies,"

Steve raised a blond eyebrow and then sighed, "Alright. Do you have any idea of what you want to get him this year?" His voice had lost its gimmick; his smile lost its shine.

House just patted Steve on the uniformed shoulder gave a half-hearted smile and said with no emotion, "Happy Holidays Steve. Hope you'll sell all those ties to someone," and then wobbled off to another store. Steve's salesperson's mind took a second to realize that he had lost out on a major customer and with a heavy, confused heart he walked back to The Tie Tent.

House couldn't believe that he wasn't going to buy Wilson a tie for once in their friendship. That was both a good and a bad thing. _Change_ was good. But for once he had _no clue_ what Wilson liked. Walking through the mall like the drifter he was; House eventually found a perfect store. Build-A-Bear-Workshop. And in the window it was nothing less perfect than the perfect gift…a brown teddy bear with brown eyes in a little white lab coat and pocket protector. It was sitting up with other bears of other occupations but this particular one stood out. House blinked at it…he needed it for his lover. But of course a man of House's standards would never set one toenail in there. He needed an assistant.

A light-bulb seemed to go off and then he remembered Steve. Poor heart-broken Steve. House spun around and headed back to the Tie Tent where Steve was attempting to sell to a collage age student. His "customer" left with a huff and Steve sighed before looking up at House standing there right next to him. House pulled out a hundred dollar bill and looked at Steve with generosity in his heart and said, "Mind doing me a favor?"

_(Merry Christmas… a full month late…hope you'll forgive me for keeping you…)_

They stood outside of the store like two hired hit-men…right next to each other and whispering in hushed nervous tones. Steve looked at the prize in the window once more before looking at House strangely for the umpteenth time. "You want me…to go inside there…make a teddy bear---" House cut him off in a perfectionist's tone, "A brown eyed brown bear. It _has_ to be brown," Steve sighed before continuing, "Make a _brown_ teddy bear and buy the doctor clothes for it," House nodded a billion times before smiling in appreciation. "Thank you Steve. You have no idea how important this is for me,"

"Are you sure it has to be the doctor bear? That's a hot item. You sure it can't be a fireman or a policeman?" House shuddered mentally at the thought of a policeman bear smiling up at Wilson Christmas morning. "No," he said firmly, "It has to be a brown doctor bear," Steve smiled, pocketed the hundred dollar bill and then marched into the store. House stood there momentarily before his leg reminded him just how damaged it was and he found a bench to sit down at. He sat there for at least 20 minutes while Steve went through the process of making the present. House would look up every 5 minutes to see Steve doing something new; whether it was picking out the bear itself; or stuffing it; or picking out the little toy's garments.

Eventually, before the half-full bottle of pills House brought with him became half-empty, Steve emerged from the store with a smile of victory. House stood up as fast as he could and hobbled over to his accomplice and stared at him expectantly. Steve, still smiling, pulled the prize out of a cardboard box and showed it to House who looked it over at least twenty times before smiling himself. "Thank you Steve. I owe you one." Steve gave him the box and checked the watch on his wrist, and said with a slight sigh "You owe me lunch. That took up my lunch break," House glanced at the receipt and calculated how much lunch would cost with the change before breaking down and saying, "Keep the change. Buy yourself something nice for the holidays,"

The tie salesman blinked at the doctor in an awkward silence that lasted at least a minute. He broke the silence with a surprised cough and a murmur of, "B-but the change was about $70.00," House replaced the precious bear back into the box and nodded at his new friend, "Yep. Enjoy it and don't go spending it all at once," and with that he gave Steve the fifty dollar bill and the four tens that came with it and limped towards the exit. Steve held the money and then looked at the ceiling in wonderment. _So this is what its like to be good…_House thought as he climbed into his car.

_(Christmas Morning)_

After a sleepless night on House's part (he had to wrap "the present" in secret), Christmas morning arrived and with it the release of many stresses. The men woke up at a reasonable hour and made coffee and laughed together. They stood in the kitchen talking to one another like it was just any other morning before they remembered what day it was. With child-like excitement in their eyes they made their way to their little Christmas tree in the center of the TV room.

The coffee table was moved to some other location and in its place there was a small potted plant with tinsel and a few strands of colourful Christmas lights. It had no ornaments and only two presents under it; but that was good enough for the two of them. House grabbed the present he bought for Wilson; Wilson doing the same for House. They looked at each other before exchanging presents with excited murmurs of "I hope you like it,"

Wilson was the first to unwrap his and he held the teddy bear at arms length. It was just as cute as it was in the store but it looked as though someone with some sort of permanent marker and written on the corner of the lab coat that didn't have pens sticking out of the pocket "Dr.Wilson". The sight of that made Wilson laugh and look deep into House's eyes. They shared eye contact for half a second before House leaned over and kissed Wilson softly. It lasted a lifetime and then they pulled apart. House was eager to see what Wilson got him for a present.

He unwrapped the gold and silver wrapping paper as fast as a child would, and gasped at what was underneath it. It was an foldable piano matt. With all of the keys it was capable of playing just like a baby Grand piano but also capable of rolling up and being put into a shoulder bag. House's eyes lit up like a lighthouse on a cliff facing open water and he gave Wilson a big bear hug. They held onto each other for a lifetime and smiled as they held onto their new gifts. It was going to be a good holiday.

_**A/N: Sorry for the delay. I have been sick. I have been broken-hearted. And I have been lazy. Please be honest with your comments. I need to know what I do good and what I can do better. Thanks.**_


	20. Time Flies When It's Warm with You

Chapter Twenty: Time Flies When It's Warm with You

After Christmas, House and Wilson fell back onto their regular schedules. With Wilson up in the Cancer Ward and House spending most of his time facing new patients; their thoughts of one another never leaving their minds. House would occasionally; when the new patient was puzzling him too much; swing the shoulder-strap piano onto his back and limp to the little space where his office intertwines with Wilson's and play his new toy. Soft gentle music would waver in through the walls into Wilson's office and he would smile; knowing that House was there…so close yet so far away.

Once Wilson caught House in the act; walking outside to see House lying against the brick wall with the piano matt across his lap and a mildly surprised look on his face. "S-s-s-s-so…I take it you like your new gift, huh?" Wilson shivered against the bitter cold that he felt. House looked up and gave that sly smile he only saved for his lover before standing shakily to his feet, "I do love it. Because it was from you," With this thought he leaned forward and gave Wilson an icy kiss on the lips.  
Wilson instantly felt warm. It didn't matter at all that it was close to 20 degrees outside and he stood there in his suit-shirt and pants. It didn't matter that he felt the soft snow falling down his already frigid neck. All that mattered is he was receiving a kiss from the man he proudly called his lover. The moment they broke apart House was shivering and managed to mumble against the cold, "Can we go inside?" Wilson smiled and opened the door allowing his friend to step forward into the heated sanctuary within.

House rolled up the piano and replaced it on his back and took a long deep breath. Wilson walked into the office and closed the door behind him and grinned at House like he was the source of the heat in the room. The blue eyes that belonged to Greg scanned the room until he found it, the teddy bear he worked so hard to get, placed on top of James's desk and it was smiling at him. He couldn't help but smirk back.

Wilson walked towards his desk where he sat down and started sorting through some paperwork. House noticed one of the pages had a familiar name…Kaylin. He looked up into Wilson's eyes and his face was worried. Wilson cleared his throat before asking to House's asking glance, "What's wrong?"

House pointed to the page, still in the corner of the oak desk, and questioned, "Is this patient…Kaylin…okay?" His face was full of true concern as if he truly cared about the young girl he had only briefly met almost two months previously.

Wilson nodded, a thoughtful smile on his round face, "Yes. Her latest treatment has been working wonderfully. She was able to go home for Christmas and returned just the other day." House continued to stare at the little girl's file, at the picture of a cute innocent face with those green eyes and red flowing hair. After a while he looked up at Wilson and gave him an awkward smile, "Can we go see her?"

_**Yes I am still focusing on Christmas. I promise the Valentine's Day episode will be up by the actual holiday on Thursday. I have been a slacker and for that I apologize. **_

House had bought a bouquet of flowers from the hospital's gift shop and Wilson bought a small Santa Teddy Bear. It was the least he could do to show the girl had been so brave during her countless tests and operations over the past year or so. They entered the Cancer Ward together with hopeful hearts. They would not be disappointed.

Entering the patient's room first, Wilson smiled brightly as he saw the girl and her mother and older brother playing cards on the hospital bed. "Merry Late Christmas Kaylin," he said in a warm supportive voice as he walked up to the girl's bed. Her green eyes brightened and she sat up fuller in bed, knocking all the playing cards onto the floor and she gasped, "Dr. Wilson!" Her brother and mother just laughed as they bent over to collect the cards that had fallen. Wilson looked towards the door of the room as House walked in with the flowers and hugged the small child tight in greeting.

Kaylin's mother did not notice House right away, instead hugging Wilson too and saying in a voice laden with gratitude, "Thank you Dr. Wilson. She gets better every day!"

House put the flowers on the dresser near the bed and watched as the older brother of the patient squint suspiciously at him. "Relax. I am a friend of Dr. Wilson. I am also a doctor," he said in a silky calming voice. The brother seemed to relax and put out his hand to shake, "Charles, nice to meet you Dr…" House smiled and took the hand offered and finished, "House. Dr. House." The teenager laughed an unbelieving laugh and snickered, "House? Like a house that you live in?" It was House's turn to give a sarcastic smirk when he replied, "Can't think of any other kind,"

Charles just nodded and then sat down on one of the guest chairs, shuffling the playing cards in his hands. The woman; that was casually talking with her daughter's doctor; finally let her eyes fall on House and then she flashed a smile. "I don't believe we were introduced. I am Stephanie, Kaylin's mother," House shook her hand too and stated his name again, secretly hoping not to get the same response from the mother that he got from the son, "I am Dr. House," He just got a polite smile and a nod in response and she walked over to the flowers to inspect them.

Wilson was by Kaylin's bed talking to her about how she was feeling and how beautiful her new wig was. She would only blush and giggle, the new present of the Teddy Bear in her lap. House hobbled over to Wilson and stood by him, silently watching their conversation.

Kaylin's green eyes looked up from her teddy bear to see House and then she smiled bright as ever, "Hey its you! The one who came here to see me on Turkey Day!"

House could live to be a hundred and two and never forget that smile, that innocent look of remembrance in the girl's eyes, and that sweet voice. He smiled and responded, "Yep. It's me. How you doing kiddo? You have a good Christmas?"

Kaylin nodded and looked at her family in the room, "I was able to go home and see my family. It was amazing!" Her eyes shined with happiness and her brother and mother could only smile in return.

House nodded and looked at Wilson and somehow felt Wilson's pride radiating off of him. The pride that comes from when he knows he made a difference in a patient's life. The pride of saving another life. The pride of being a doctor. It felt so warm and so calming being in the room with that kind of pride. House sighed a deep quick sigh and said, "That is good. I am glad it was a good one," Wilson stood up, for he was kneeling by the bed, and continued, "Kaylin. If your treatment keeps working you should be home by the 7th of January."

With an excited gasp from Kaylin and another hug from Stephanie Wilson nodded and laughed in mirth, "Yes. You will be home in time to start school again," House felt that pride warm his heart again and just watched the scene unfold as though he was reading it from a book. It was good to be friends…no…lovers…with such a good doctor…good friend…good person…


	21. The Day of Love and Leg Pain

Chapter Twenty-One: The Day of Love…and Leg Pain

_**A/N OMG! No way! Two chapters in the same week?! What the heck is going on?! Nothing. Nothing is going on. Just in time with the Writer's Strike, my writers block finally lifted. I feel a huge urge to write for the first time in a loooong time. Happy Valentine's Day everyone. I hope your day is full of love even if you don't have a lover. (There is always friends and family guys…love is everywhere…) I am also warning you ahead of time…this is gonna get a little explicit. It is a love chapter between House and Wilson so what do you expect? I hope you all enjoy and have a great week! **_

Kaylin was released the very next week. The new treatment had improved her condition so much that Wilson was convinced she could get home a few days earlier than expected. Having her leave the hospital after staying there for so long was an emotional experience for most the nursing staff that had taken care of her and mostly Wilson. They were all in the clinic to see her off, with hugs, smiles, and little "going away" gifts. Wilson had found out the little girl loved to draw so he got her a kit full of art supplies and a new sketchbook.

Kaylin looked up into the deep chocolate browns of her favourite doctor and gave him a warm, snug hug that was full of life and whispered in his ear, "Thank you Dr. Wilson. I will always remember you." Wilson hugged onto the little girl's body and felt warm inside again. Once the little girl let go, her mother stepped in to give Wilson a hug. Wilson had to hug her too and reassure her that her little girl would be alright about five times before the mother believed it and left the hospital smiling and hand-in-hand with her daughter.

Wilson had to tell someone how he felt, but House was nowhere to be found. He didn't second guess his lover. He was probably at home nursing a New Year's hangover. The smile that wouldn't leave his face no matter what anyone said or did stayed put and then Wilson walked back to the office. He stayed at his desk, catching up on some paperwork from 2007 until he went home early to check up on Ol' Limpy.

(A Month and Thirteen Days Later…Valentine's Day)

House was the first to wake up on the Day of Love…or so it seemed. At first he didn't realize it was a holiday; for it had been a long time since he had a use for Valentine's Day; but he did notice how cold it was. Looking down at his boxers and his bare legs he saw that Wilson had stolen all of the blankets in the middle of the night again. Sighing he grabbed the sheets bunched around Wilson and pulled them over himself. The shivering stopped and he felt Wilson's body heat still on the blanket and smelled his lover's cologne. That was too much for him to handle…he wrapped his arms around Wilson.

Wilson was in the middle of dreaming of something when the surprise hug from nowhere came. He woke up instantly and gasped, but relaxed when he saw it was House's arms and not some psycho trying to kill him. He also smiled. House had found his surprise for him. A single rose was in his hand and House had just brushed his fingers over the petals.

House looked puzzled as he stared onto Wilson's back and then pulled the flower out from under the covers. "A rose? Don't you think I'm a little old to be a bachelor, James?" his voice mumbled into Wilson's ear.

Wilson turned around to face his lover, their hips brushing each others, their heartbeats thumping in their chest in unison, and said, "It's Valentine's Day, Greg. I wanted you to get in the spirit early so it would last all day,"

House blinked in surprise, eyes wide, and mind suddenly wide awake. He had forgotten about another important holiday…this time until the day of! He felt like an idiot for not getting his lover anything and his blazing blues scanned the room. His mind raced _Just pick something up at work…yeah…does Wilson like chocolates?_ Wilson seemed to sense House's awkwardness and then leaned in to give him a long passionate kiss as if to say _You didn't need to get me anything. It's just the fact that you are here with me that matters._

House melted in the kiss just like he had all the other times. With the rose still dangling in his fingers he twirled it in between them; as their lips still locked in one long wet kiss after the other. He was no longer worried about getting a present…but more concerned with his escalating leg pain. His heart chose to ignore it as he tucked the rose behind his ear and climbed on top of Wilson.

Wilson moaned at the feeling of having his lover on top of him as was able to whisper, "This early?" House answered by kissing Wilson's neck and then his collarbone. That is all the talking Wilson needed for now…he pulled up House's shirt and tossed it on the floor. House smiled and his eyes flashed full of love as he pulled Wilson's shirt off and onto the floor right on top of House's T-shirt.

House continued by kissing down Wilson's chest and finally reaching his lovers sweatpants where he tugged them off with his teeth. Wilson moaned…already ready for House to do whatever he pleased. House reached up with his hands and pulled down the underwear too…with his lips still resting on his lover's belly button. Wilson couldn't believe what House was gonna do. The most they've done was the whole shebang but _nothing_ below the belt.

Greg looked up into James's eyes, the passion all over his gruff face and went in for it…he put his nervous wet lips on Wilson and started to lick and suck. Wilson's grip on the sheets of the bed got tighter and his eyes shut in the pleasure that rushed through him. House knew what he was doing only from receiving it so many times but he still doubted his abilities. He didn't give up though. One hand stayed where he needed it and the other crawled up the bed to grip onto Wilson's hand. He gave a reassuring squeeze to the man who was overwhelmed with the passion.

Then as fast as it started House stopped. He ran his warm hands down Wilson's cheek and his naked chest. Wilson's eyes opened and stayed half-open with a slight smile on his face. House had to know how he did…he felt a lot like a salesperson trying to sell his services…he didn't want to be rejected. He whispered, "James…how was that? You okay?"

Wilson's eyes opened fully and then he sat up so he was three centimeters from House's face and he moaned, "Greg. You are better than anything I've ever had. I love you." House's heart of ice melted for the umpteenth time with Wilson with him in the same room and he allowed Wilson to overwhelm him with kisses this time.

They switched positions and Wilson started to kiss down House's chest. House suddenly felt very self-conscious of his right bruised thigh. When his boxers came off he stared up at Wilson; who returned the stare. "What's wrong?" the breathless song came from Wilson. House sighed roughly feeling the passion driving him mad, but was able to ask, "Does my scar scare you? I mean…does it…" he looked away from the eye contact.

Instead of continuing the road to absolute bliss, Wilson took House's chin in his hands and made that eye contact again, "No, Greg. It does not disgust me. It makes you who you are and it makes you special." With a sweet smile and a salty kiss House was completely reassured. He allowed Wilson to treat him to the greatest pleasure. They didn't even hear the alarm clock go off that morning. They were too busy celebrating.


	22. A Sharp Decline in Case Work Part One

Chapter Twenty-Two: A Sharp Decline in Case Work

Chapter Twenty-Two: Sharp Decline in Case Work: Part One

Valentine's Day. After House and Wilson both climbed out of bed and looked at their respected watches they knew something was wrong. Wilson had his wristwatch and House had his alarm clock. They both confirmed one thing…they were late for work. Obviously for House this was a normal occurrence; he was late at least three times a week. Wilson's brown eyes had become wide as two mud puddles and he ran as quickly as he could into the bathroom for the soon to be fastest shower of his doctor life.

House sat up in bed for a while, smiling to himself, his deep ocean eyes half-closed, and feeling warm and tingly all over. It was possibly the best Valentine's Day ever and it wasn't even two hours into it. Better than the time when Stacy surprised him by waiting for him on their bed covered in rose petals and their song on the stereo. It was better than when his collage roommates took him to a strip club and then hired the girls to dance for only him. No. It was the best "Day of Love" ever recorded.

Deciding to take a shower when he got to work to save time, House climbed out of bed, grabbed his cane off the bedpost and found his way to the closet in the corner. He pulled out his pink button down shirt and red Rolling Stones shirt (he was feeling festive for the holiday) and a pair of dark blue jeans he was ready to roll. Strange though. As he sat on his bed and pulled on the new pants he heard a strange rhythmic beeping noise.

Pulling on his buttoned-shirt and limping into the kitchen he found the source of the chirping; his answering machine with a couple new messages. Aquamarine eyes widened and the end of a cane pushing the play button; he sat at the kitchen table eager to hear the messages that seemed so urgent. He would not be disappointed.

The first was from his mother. The moment the woman's gentle voice came on House's mind was put in a temporary state of calm. His mom's voice did that to him without his control. He closed his eyes as his mother's voice told him to call him and that she was concerned for she hadn't heard from him in a while. Almost since September. House's closed eyes seemed to smile behind their lids and his mouth formed a half-grin. Almost the amount of time he had started "seeing" Wilson. Not that his mom would ever find out about that.

A sharp beep announced the end of the message and brought House back into reality. His eyes burst open and he leaned forward from leaning so comfortably backwards. The next voice he heard…Cuddy's. She sounded pissed. Her angry voice rang through the nearly quiet apartment; yelling at House that he had a sharp decline in case work and she demanded to know what was causing him to be so distracted. She wanted to know why he almost seemed well…_happy_…at work and why his team was concerned for lack of communication from their boss. She also said that there would be a very important meeting at noon for House, Wilson, and the team to attend. She ended with a sickly sweet, "And Happy Single's Awareness Day to you,"

Another sharp beep and House sat there staring at his answering machine strangely as if it were a case for him to solve. Wilson came out of the bathroom, fully dressed, hair still a little damp, and breathing roughly from the rush of his morning routine, "Is everything okay, Greg?"

House put on his best confident smirk and stood up, "Well of course. It's Valentine's Day and I am with you," Wilson allowed himself to indulge in kissing his lover one more time before they both went outside to go to work. House's euphoria of the holiday slowly decreased the closer his car got to the hospital. A meeting and an angry boss who still thinks he's single. _Valentine's Day was a horrible holiday full of love and angst…_he thought semi-sweetly as he pulled into his handicapped spot.

_(Eventually…insert long sigh here…the clock hands inch towards the twelve…)_

House was staring at the clock again. This time he was staring at it not in excitement for the end of the day but in worry for how the meeting would go. What did Cuddy want to talk about besides the fact that he was being a slacker again? He did his cases…just not as often as he had done so in the past. He was much too busy with well…other things. Cuddy wouldn't understand that he suddenly realized after being best friends with Wilson for close to a decade that he started having feelings for the other man.

Wilson. Wilson still didn't know about the meeting. Cuddy would've been sure to know that House would tell Wilson about the meeting so she didn't bother to notify the oncologist. With a shaky hand House picked up his office phone and dialed Wilson's extension number.

On the second ring Wilson answered a smile hidden in his voice, "Hey House. I was just about to call you. Do you want to grab a Valentine's Day lunch and then catch a flick?" House was too numb for the upcoming meeting that he didn't notice that Wilson just suggested that they ditch the rest of the work day. "Greg? You alright?" Wilson's worried voice pulsed into his ear.

House cleared his throat and said with a false confident voice, "Um…James…I have to tell you something…" his eyes wandered to the clock where it stared back notifying he had less than ten minutes to tell Wilson what they were in for. "Go for it, Greg. I told you…you can tell me anything. Are you in pain? Your detox has been going very well but are you okay?"

House shook his head and rested his forehead on his hand, "This has nothing to do with my pain. I just wanted to tell you…that…well…we have a meeting at noon in the Conference Room A with everybody including Cuddy."

Wilson's carefree laugh was heard in his ear and then a voice full of mirth replied, "Is that all? You didn't have to be all nervous about that. I will be there." House's relief washed over him almost as fast as Vicodin did at one time but he still had one more thing to say, "And…James…"

Wilson's face turned slightly serious but his voice still had a slight smile. "Yeah. What is it?" All of his confidence in himself went into the next words, "We aren't going to tell anyone…why I've been a slacker lately are we? I mean…we would have to confess to well…being…_together_."

Wilson suddenly realized the seriousness of House's worry and said in a slight worried confident tone himself, "No. We will just say that you have been detoxing. I don't think the world is ready for Dr. House and Dr. Wilson to come out of the closet,"

It was now House's time to smile and laugh. "You're right. Thanks James. I-I love you," his voice faded towards the end. Wilson's smiled, glanced at his wristwatch, "I love you too Greg. I love you too. And I'll see you in a couple,"

In unison they both hung up, got up from their desks, and then left their offices. It was going to be a long Valentine's Day. But there was always a hopeful dinner in store for the two men. Love conquers all.

_**A/N I just want to come out and deeply apologize for keeping you waiting a full two months for an update. I have been wanting to update…and writing an update on paper for the past several several days. My roommates just found it hilarious taking my Internet cable away from me in hopes of getting me more involved in their activities. I found it, and had a lot of anonymous help, hooked it back up. I will be more careful in the future to not keep my cable in plain view. **__(takes a deep long breath starting to finally relax)__** What do you think? I thought a little more character involvement would be nice at this point in the story. I also hope by the 24**__**th**__** chapter I will have a St. Patrick's chapter. What do you think? Please keep commenting. I live for comments…positive or negative. Thanks also for all those who keep coming back and the new readers that add me to their Favorite's List. You all RAWK! **_ 3


	23. A Sharp Decline in Case Work Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Sharp Decline In Case Work: Part Two

Chapter Twenty-Three: A Sharp Decline In Case Work: Part Two

House's mind was racing as quickly as lightning to how he would present himself for the meeting. With every limping step he would feel his heart rate increase in the pain of his leg, and the stress of the situation. It usually got like this. When he became abnormally stressed the pain would increase tenfold in his leg, but lately with the support of Wilson he tried his hardest not to show it. Meeting in the hallway they exchanged glances; Wilson's of silent support and House's of silent pain. They climbed onto the elevator to go to the third level and just looked at each other in silence as the elevator went up.

Once doors opened Wilson subconsciously knew something was troubling House. House's azure eyes had a far-away look and his gruff jaw was set in a frown. Wilson's soft comforting voice was in House's ear before they got off the elevator. It was as mellow and calm as a mother's tone would be and it said, "Greg, you'll be just fine," They got off and locked eyes as both their faces softened. Smiles were flashed and then they made their way to the conference room right on time.

Walking in behind one another they noticed they were the last to arrive. Cuddy was sitting at the head of the table, with the team on the one side of the long table. The teams' eyes scanned the couple's faces in unison and they all looked at one another in quiet wonder, exchanging shrugs and confused glances. Two empty chairs were placed on the opposite side, one for House and one for Wilson. Even though House hated doing so, he sat next to Cuddy nursing his tender thigh. Cuddy gave both a gentlemen a welcoming, but forced smile, and said in her authority tone, "Good day gentlemen. How are you both feeling?"

House looked at Cuddy with a trying-to-hide-exhausted-expression and shrugged, "I've been better and I've been worse. I'm hungry too. Your shirt is delicious as usual," and then he flashed his characteristic smirk to assure Cuddy that he was himself. Cuddy's grey eyes rolled and a slightly annoyed smile appeared on her face for a slight moment. Wilson realized this was all an act but he glanced at his boss, "I am doing well. I am happy to report that one of my patients was able to make a full recovery,"

Cuddy nodded in knowledge and glanced at one of the forms in front of herself, "Yes. I am aware of that, James. Ms. Kaylin Jenison. But we're not gathered here today to talk about your cases. You are always a diligent worker,"

Wilson cleverly hid a sigh and gave a small grateful nod, before Cuddy continued, her eyes falling on House who was still distracted by his leg. "What I am concerned about is the case work of Dr. House."

Hearing his name, House looked up from rubbing his thigh, and tried looking innocent at his boss. "I've been doing case work. I am doing my job,"

With a quick exhale of breath to calm herself down, Cuddy found another form and placed it in front of House so he could see. It was a line graph of his cases completed over the past several months. It went up and down at a normal range and then as of September it started to go more down than up. As House's eyes blinked at the chart Cuddy's voice narrated, "Not as often as you normally have been."

House eyes jumped up angrily at Cameron and snarled, "You do my paperwork! How do I know that _you_ didn't just fake this chart to get me in trouble?"

Cameron's eyes widened at her sudden involvedness in the meeting and stated defensively and calmly, "Because I do your paperwork by choice and not by force and Cuddy is aware of all the cases, or lack thereof, that come into your office. I wouldn't lie to put _my own job_ on the line, House."

Chase stepped in his defense, not wanting to loose his job, "Yeah. And while you've been doing close to nothing, we've also been doing your clinic hours,"

Foreman shook his head at House as if he were a parent very disappointed in his child for being caught falling behind in schoolwork. "We aren't your little minions, House. We do our jobs _and_ your job and enough is enough."

House was already edgy enough because of the leg pain and now that his team is triple-teaming him against his boss he felt like a can of soda getting shook up.

Before he could open up, and most likely explode all over, his lover came to his rescue. Wilson had seen House subtly flinch every time his team would drill to him so he cleared his throat and said what he came in here to help say, "The reason House has been having such a rough time lately is he is detoxing from Vicodin by himself,"

There was an awkward silence in the room. All eyes were on Wilson in shock, disbelief and a little bit of humor underneath it all. Before anyone could raise any questions House took deep breath and pulled out the replacement pills out of his pocket and set them on the table and started a monologue of explaining.

"I started to take these when Wilson moved back in with me. I figured after rationalizing back and forth in my mind several times that Vicodin was killing me. My senses were numb unless I got the high of the pill. I took them when I wanted to escape from reality not just escape from pain. So…with the friendship support of Wilson I was able to ease my way off Vicodin, and onto these," he picked up the orange prescription bottle, popped open the lid expertly and poured two of the pills on his hand to show the evidence. They were smaller and defiantly yellow whereas Vicodin was white and longer.

Cuddy suspiciously glanced at House and the pills back and forth a couple times before asking the question that was on everyone else's mind, "How do we know you aren't just faking this? You could have easily gone down to the pharmacy to fill a prescription of a weaker narcotic and faked this whole thing,"

Wilson once again came to House's defense, "I know personally that House has been taking these pills since we've moved back in together. The first part of it was rough for him but living with him I was able to help him through it." Inside his mind he hoped that his last sentence didn't give anything away about their "relationship".

As House put the pills delicately back into their container he fought the urge to take them both, for his pain was escalating with each passing minute. His tired and mostly hidden conscience wanted to make a good impression on the "jury". Everyone was watching him with wondering eyes.

Foreman cocked a dark eyebrow and asked a purely curious question, "Why did you move back in with House, Wilson? I recall you couldn't wait to move out the first time because of how he treated you."

Fortunately for House all eyes fell on Wilson at this point so he wasn't too worried they would see his face flush a slight pink. He could recall too and it wasn't a pleasant first experience having Wilson with him; but if Wilson would somehow leave him again he would slip into disaster. He loved Wilson and ached when he couldn't be near him. Part of him wanted to pause this meeting and run off to lunch with his lover and ditch the meeting completely. But he couldn't…he had to act as neutral as possible and he did so as he turned slightly to look at Wilson as he made his response.

"I moved back in with House because he asked me to and I wanted to get out of the boring hotel I was staying at," James Wilson stated in a completely flat voice and his face looked convincing. Both lovers hoped the council would buy it.

Chase didn't. He shook his head, wavy blond hair flopping slightly in the artificial light that shone directly over his figure. He reasoned, "But you are a well-paid doctor. You could buy a different suite every night or even buy a nice apartment somewhere else,"

House couldn't help but smile slyly when he countered Chase's argument, "Ever been divorced? No…I didn't think so. Ever been divorced three times? I would hope not. You're still only a baby wombat." The smile got a bit wider as Chase's became a bit more annoyed. "Divorce costs money. I offered for him to stay with me so he could have more money for himself. And that's all," he said.

Cameron snickered slightly in disbelief and stepped into the conversation again, arms crossed, "You mean we are all supposed to believe that you, Gregory House world-known doctor, is trying to be hospitable and a recovering addict at the same time? And that is why your cases are decreasing?"

Both House and Wilson nodded, but House was the one who said, "Yes,"

Cuddy was sitting back and letting the conversation unfold, and not feeling the urge to interrupt or put her say in the matter. She did however notice some eye contact exchanges between House and Wilson during the debate as if they were helping each other through it. Unbeknownst to her and every other oblivious doctor in the room, it was a good idea for both men to wear buttoned up shirts otherwise the evidence of their love would've been seen on their necks.

Cuddy looked once more down at the chart, made a few hand-written notes on it and said with authority once more, "House. I admire your personal "midlife crisis goals" and I encourage you to continue your detox treatment. However, I would also greatly appreciate it if you made an effort to do your job as well." She handed him the chart with the footnote on it labeled, "Please make-up 20 hours of Clinic Duty by March 30,"

House's eyes shot wide open but before he could revolt, Cuddy cut him off with an out-of-character patient smile, "Yes. It will be a challenge for you; but you like challenges don't you?" With an upwards glance at everyone else around the table she stated with finality, "The meeting is adjourned. Everyone take a lunch break,"

The team got up looking even more puzzled than they did when they first got there. Wilson and House exchanged puzzled glances and then House asked, "Why did you got off the meeting so quickly, Cuddy?"

Cuddy stood there, bent over the table and gathering up her paperwork, and smiled up at House, as a proud mother would, "Because House…I never thought you would be able to change and now that you are in the process of it there is nothing more to be said than: keep up the great work,"

Wilson looked towards the door and saw that the team was gathered there like ducks watching Cuddy as if she was the Mother Goose, and asked a question himself, "So that's it? Just continue watching House?" House looked at his lover like he didn't like the idea of being baby-sat.

Cuddy gathered the files in her arms and scooted in her chair and smiled at her head oncologist, "Yes. If you would. House trusts you most."

House's eyes rolled but smiled under his stubble. If only she knew how much he trusted Wilson. After a while everyone left the conference room and went their separate ways, mostly to the cafeteria. House and Wilson stayed put, standing by one another at the doorway. They were smiling at each other in silent victory. It was House who broke the silence when he finally after long last popped his two relief pills and sighed in release before asking the question on his mind all along, "You still want to get the hell outta here, James?"

Wilson's hands were in his pockets, and his brown eyes temporarily on his shined black shoes. He liked leaving House in suspense but felt like he couldn't do it long. His face shined with a bright smile and their eyes met, "Let me get my clothes,"

_A/N: I hated the past few months of my life. School is stress and school is the only reason why I haven't written. My professors believe that if you give students a lot of work towards the end of the year that they won't get stressed out. Nope. The opposite. I have been so stressed out that writing this story has been a #1 priority but not a #1 ability. I hope that I still can write it well. Please, as always, leave a comment. I want to be a writer as a profession and I need to know if I am doing an effective job of it as a hobby. Also…because this chapter basically follows a calendar…the next chapter is going to be St. Patrick's Day, and then Easter, and so on. I know its behind because its June now…but please work with me here. Is there anything you would love to see House and Wilson do on these holidays (or anything in between). I loved your ideas for Halloween and I am willing to use as many as I can for the story now. Thanks again for reading! ___


	24. The Imposter in the Green Clothes

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Imposter in the Green Clothes

House and Wilson, as expected, had a wonderful Valentine's Day. They snuck out of the hospital by walking as quickly as they could and took off in House's car, which surprisingly went faster than Wilson's. Cuddy was a bit concerned because when she went to the cafeteria shortly after the meeting she expected the two doctors to be right there already eating.

When she sat down next to the diagnostic team with her tray of non-fat pasta she wanted to know if these shenanigans of House and Wilson running off together were a common thing. The team, who were eating as a trio as they usually do, didn't have an answer.

House and Wilson went out to a fancy restaurant for both lunch and dinner that night, with a different man covering the bill each time. House, of course, had to be playfully coached by his lover to cover the bill. He may love his lover with all his soul, but the money in his wallet was still important to him too.

After lunch they went to a movie. Not a romantic one, even though that's what Wilson kind of wanted. They went to see a sharp-witted action film that had an empty theater. This allowed the two full-grown men to hold hands…under the radar. They felt like teenagers again, because both men could recall taking girlfriends to the movies. But this time they knew they were with their "true soul mate" and not some "teenage infatuation" and it made the movie that much better.

House even did something unthinkable at dinner. The restaurant was fancier this time than at lunch. In the center of the circular table there was a large fully-bloomed red rose in honor of St. Valentines Day. Wilson was signing the check. (That was the deal, House would pay lunch because it was cheaper and the movie tickets; if Wilson got dinner and the snacks at the theater.) House was sneaking the rose into his suit jacket top.

When they got home Wilson was taking off his shoes and his coat leisurely, and House was already in the bedroom. It took the oncologist a minute to realize House wasn't by his side as he usual was. When James looked around for his lover and called out his name, he got the sounds of the song "I Want to Know What Love Is" is response. Wilson smiled to himself and followed the source of the noise.

Wilson spoke loudly, but lovingly, to be heard over the music as he walked towards the bedroom. "Wow, Greg. I knew you were a fan of the good ol'oldies music but I didn't take you for the romantic rock ballad type," when he reached the bedroom his mindset changed completely. House, before he left the bedroom that morning, had found some candles and at this time most of them were lit and were placed on the dresser. The lights over the bed were dimmed to give the whole room a candle-like glow. The "music" was coming from the iPod stereo on House's bedside table. Where was House?

House was sitting on the bed with his legs crossed Indian-Style, and the rose from dinner was in his hands between his legs. He was looking down but as soon as he picked up on Wilson being in the room, his head bolted upwards and his best attempt at a lustful smile was on his face. Wilson was in disbelief. He was certain that _he wasn't in a room that had anything to do with House_. He was certain that the make-shift "romantic chamber" was a dream and he just fell asleep on the car ride home.

The song was almost over by the time Wilson asked the question on his tongue, "…House? What are you doing in here?"

House craftily pulled out a mini-remote from his jacket pocket and restarted the song and then looked at his lover with a puppy-love look on his face, "What does it look like James?"

A slight silence resulted from the two and House broke the silence. "I tried…and now I feel like an idiot,"

Wilson stepped close the bed, hearing his heartbeat in his ears and stated in a reassuring tone, "_You're_ _not an idiot, Greg_. I-I am just surprised." With a sideways glance at the environment around him and then a smile at his lover he continued, "It looks nice though,"

House's head bolted upward from his head-lowered-in-humiliation into his lover's warm brown eyes and he felt the ice that surrounds itself around his heart melt. "Are you pulling my cane?" he paused, studying his lovers face for clues, "This is what I figured you'd want on Valentine's Day,"

Wilson, who was already in unconditional love with the man with embarrassment written all over his face, just took another step forward. At this point his legs were touching the bed and he was close enough to House to smell his cologne. He took a deep breath and said smoothly, "Greg…" He gently took House's chin in his hands so that blue worried eyes met brown loving ones and kissed him softly, saying afterwards, "…its perfect," House's relief was felt in the kisses that followed and carried them on the sea of love until all the candles snuffed out by themselves.

(So many days and a lot of clinic hours later)

March 17th, 2008

St. Patrick's Day. As all the other holidays the hospital was decorated for it. Green shamrock-shaped streamers hung from the ceiling in zigzag patterns. The nurse's desk had many paper shamrocks taped around it, the little papers naming the nurses on staff. Aside from the random green shirts, ties, or scrubs everyone on staff that day went about daily hospital business. Everyone that is…including a certain Dr. Gregory House.

He hobbled into the hospital almost on time that morning with bright orange hair. He was wearing a forest green button up shirt with a T-Shirt underneath declaring Ireland's flag and name. His jeans were medium blue with two small shamrock patches on each leg. House topped everything off with wearing a green top hat with four-leaf-clovers sprinkled over it. Did you happen to notice that orange hair?

All the nurses had to do a double take as House grabbed a few patient files and went into Exam Room 1 without saying a word. They whispered among each other and nodded. It _was_ House…with a very festive Irish look for St. Patty's Day.

House greeted every clinic patient he saw that morning with a very realistic Irish accent, "Top o' the mornin' to ya!" and a somewhat realistic smile. But, he tried. When he left the clinic for his morning break around 11:45 he ran into Cuddy.

Cuddy apologized to the stranger and once she looked into his blue eyes and noticed no stubble and red hair she stumbled backwards, "…House?"

House smiled at his boss, and took off his hat to bow the best he could with a bad leg, "Top o' the mornin' to ya, lass."

Cuddy got a full view of his orange hair and blinked back her wide eyes, stammering 'W-what did you do?"

House tried to continue with his Irish accent but he gave up, "I'm celebrating St. Patrick's Day the right way."

"But…your hair…" Cuddy pointed to it and its false artificial citrus color. "It's dyed…_just for a holiday_?"

House gave her a reassuring flash in his eyes and replaced his hat on top of his head, with the new color still peeking through the edges and the back of his head. He stated in a serious tone, "Relax. It's a wash-out. The stuff you buy at costume stores." With that he walked off to the cafeteria for lunch saying something under his breath about how they should be able to sell Guinness Beer at the lunchroom.

Cuddyshook her head and walked right up to the nurse's station, her green heels clacking on the hard floor. She asked the head nurse standing there, "How is House doing with his clinic make-up?"

The nurse looked up from her computer monitor and then looked back down, "Hold on…let me check…" She typed and entered something in the computer and then spun the monitor around showing a chart of House's "progress". The nurse said what Cuddy had already seen, "He only needs to do three more,"

Cuddy looked in the direction of the eating area as if House was still standing there and grinned to herself, "It must be the luck of the Irish. He's three days early from being nearly complete."

(In the Cafeteria)

Wilson was having a busy morning. The moment he walked into the hospital right on time that morning he went straight to his office to catch up with some paperwork. He hadn't meant to fall behind but with House needing so many "second-opinions" on clinic patients he hadn't had the time to do anything else. Of course he went every time Greg called. But enough was enough. Wilson left a note for House, who was still asleep this morning when Wilson was ready to leave, saying that "I will not come down unless it had to do with cancer."

He was sitting in the lunchroom eating an early lunch before going back up to his office. He was dressed in his usual lab-coat and tie combination but at least he was wearing a green tie. Remembering it was a holiday was easy with the festive decorations around the cafeteria but he was too hungry to really take them in. Eating his grilled chicken sandwich and sipping his water was all was taking in…he was in for a surprise.

House entered the nearly empty cafeteria and spotted Wilson right away. Who wouldn't notice a man in the direct center of the room eating all by himself? House got into the lunch line, bought himself a plate of a corned beef and potatoes, and walked towards the table where his lover sat. He made sure that the brim of his hat covered his eyes when he approached and said in his best Irish accent, "Do you mind if I sit here, sir?"

Wilson was looking down at his nearly empty plate and he looked up and responded, "Of course not--." After taking in the familiar body and the always characteristic outfit he nearly chocked on his side salad. "House?" he asked hoarsely.

House put down his tray, sat down, rested his cane on the side of the table, and turned up the brim of his hat smiling, saying so only Wilson could hear him, "Top o' the morning to ya, handsome."

Wilson had to control the worst of his blush and his face still burned a slight pink. House started to eat his festive meal while still looking at Wilson. James put down his sandwich, wiped his hand on his napkin, and grabbed House's hat off his head and involuntarily gasped softly, "Y-your hair!"

House burst into chuckling and wiped his mouth with his napkin before explaining himself. He had bought the whole outfit when Wilson was at an oncologist convention earlier that month. He bought the clothes at his usual store, the T-Shirt he had gotten in Ireland when he went as a twenty-something, and the hair-dye spray was bought from their costume shop. House had faked over-sleeping that morning so he could prepare the outfit and surprise everyone in secret.

Wilson was just staring at House. The hair. The shaved face. The hat and color- coordinated clothes. He then gave a very amused smile and picked up his sandwich and before he took a bite he said, "Well you defiantly surprised me." His eyes shone with love and amusement of his lover's stunt.

House's eyes sparkled with love and care when he locked eyes with Wilson again, and before he started to eat again to he said in a soft undertone, "That was the goal, love."


	25. The Thunder Rolls The Lightning Strikes

Chapter Twenty-Five: What Do You Mean Easter Eggs

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Thunder Rolls and The Lightning Strikes

Seasons change for the warmer; decorations around workplaces change for the Easter-er; the weather changes for the rainier and sunnier; hair color on false-dyed-hair changes as well. But the only thing that _almost_ never changed was how House and Wilson felt about each other. They did have their first lover's quarrel though…well…the first one they had as a "couple".

It seemed like a normal morning in March. The dark purple rain clouds swirled over New Jersey; promising rain for some areas and just poor driving conditions for the others. Princeton was a mixture of both, it would rain harshly and then the wind would blow the rain clouds away, and then bring more to take their place shortly thereafter. The morning alarm clock went off just as it always did at 7:30 A.M.

It was House's turn to press the "OFF" button on the little iPod speaker but he slept right through it. The night before had many times that called for sleep, but he hardly got any…Wilson had made sure of that. Wilson's sensitive ears woke up to the alarm right away and he gently rubbed House's bare shoulder, "Greg?" The song "A Hard Day's Night" by the Beatles echoed through the room.

House was still asleep for his first full two hours of the night and didn't respond with anything more than a snore. Wilson still wanted to wake his lover up because the alarm wasn't on his side of the bed. "Greg? Its morning…time to get up..." He shook his boyfriend's shoulder, a little less gentle this time.

House stirred in his sleep, and slowly began to wake up. He willed his arm to slump onto the alarm and turn it off. His bare back facing Wilson turned stiffly to face him, his rain-puddle blue eyes bloodshot and a bit aggravated. Then the gruff tone that came from his mouth wasn't just groggy from sleep, it sounded bitter, "You expect me to put in a good day's work when last night I didn't even do a hard night's sleep?"

Wilson had seen House bitter about plenty of things, but lack of sleep wasn't one of them. He didn't realize that his need for some "comfort" last night caused House to be grumpy the next morning and his ears burned in humiliation. The tone that came from his own lips tried to sound supportive and reasoning, "I am sorry, Greg, really. You only have two hours left of clinic duty and today is the last day. After lunch we can just walk around the hospital. We'll still be on call but won't be doing anything too mentally strenuous." He offered a kind smile.

House's response was just as lightning quick as it had always been and it was electrified with sarcasm, "Too strenuous, eh?" House yawned a loud obnoxious yawn and leaned over the bedside table and grabbed his pill bottle. It was just refilled the day before and he popped himself double his normal dosage because of the extenuating pain radiating from his thigh.

Wilson noticed that his lover took four pills instead of two and instantly sat up in the bed with worry, "House! Why did you take four? I have been told to watch your dosage of _two_ every _two_ hours."

Greg took notice of Wilson's sudden transition from "James" to "Dr. Wilson" and just squinted bitterly at him as he tried to sit up in bed. "I took four, Dr. James Wilson, because _someone _wanted to keep it exercised last night, and _someone_ doesn't know how it feels to have a _someone_ demanding sex all the time on a _bad leg_." The words came out without his control and he felt little remorse for saying them, instead making his slow and painful way to the bathroom.

James noticed his Gregory's transformation from the man he loved to the man he looked after and despised. As the thunder rumbled overhead and the lightning flashed, Wilson lowered his head onto his lap in shame and in silent anguish. He felt really bad for what happed last night…

_What Happened Last Night?_

The "comfort" was because James had received an extremely uncomfortable phone call from Julie, his last ex-wife. House had watched his lover answer his cell-phone will a heavy-hearted facial expression and just watched as the body language got more and more burdened. Wilson kept calm through the whole conversation, his voice remaining informative and neutral, but as time went on, there was sitting and eventually laying down on the couch and a lot of nervous habits.

After promising to send the missing alimony check to her, and a common courtesy of, "Goodbye and good luck with your new boyfriend, Jeffrey," Wilson hung up the phone and buried his face in his hands. He hated talking to them…the women in his past. They walked all over him, upside and backwards for money. Three ex-wives sucking him dry for every last drop of his money. Hence why he lived in a cheap hotel since the past September; he couldn't afford an apartment.

Wilson lay on the couch suddenly mentally and emotionally drained after the stressful phone call. House watched the whole thing with observance and polite silence from his piano bench. When he saw his lover anguished he felt his heart bleed for him. He felt empathy for him and without a word he got up and limped over to Wilson's collapsed form on the couch.

House gently lifted Wilson's arms that was lying over his eyes, and smiled at him sympathetically. Wilson looked up into the aqua eyes with questions in his own brown ones. House didn't take any of those questions when he mustered up all his personal strength and kneeled by his lover's side and pulled the arms he was still holding onto around himself. It was his best attempt at a comforting hug, and even though his leg was surging with great misery from kneeling, his heart told him to comfort the other man.

Wilson was shocked at House's selfless behavior but his heart needed to be mended with a hug…of any kind. He squeezed into House's embrace until he was buried in nothing concerning Julie or the others. He was buried in love, comfort, security, House's stubbled cheek, and the warmth from someone's body whom he loved with every part of himself. They stayed like that for a long while, one man supporting the other, until in wordless actions they began to talk each other through it with kissing and fumbling for clothes. The couch was uncomfortable for House's leg but it did the job for helping Wilson through his heartache.

They made it to the bedroom after they both needed to rest their backs on something at the same time. They lay there. House listening and Wilson emotionally ranting about his ex-wives and how he felt about them. Greg stayed awake and listened and then allowed the passion to drown him again…this time with Wilson on top. He remembered on how when he lived with Stacy he would (sometimes) act selfless and she would feel better about whatever was bothering her. He just hoped that he could get some sleep…

_ …Back Where We Started…_

Wilson still felt horrible as the morning went on. He went into the shower after House stepped out, the silence between them feeling thick and making him feel ever guiltier.

They ate breakfast, of Wilson's making, in quietness the only sounds were clanking of silverware and chewing. House left for work right after eating, not even doing his usual act of kindness of putting the dishes in the sink. Wilson still had to put the finishing touches of getting ready so he took care of cleaning up after finishing his own meal. He wanted to apologize to House but didn't know how to…

As he climbed in his car he couldn't help but have the memories of his ex-wives wash over him once more and how they would fight with him and give him the silent treatment too. The rain washed down his windshield as he drove to work, the weather matching his mood.

_How Does House Feel?_

Pain. Sleep made the worst of the pain go away…or at least in his sleep he dreamt of being pain-free. And it was comforting to be like that. But when House was kept awake, his leg would throb with increasing agony by the hour. Especially when his leg was put under exertions such as making Wilson feel better about himself.

House limped with noticeable favoring of his right leg into the clinic right when the rain started up again. He wasn't mad at Wilson…Wilson was the man he loved with all his heart and soul. He was mad at Wilson's need to be comforted…and now his need to apologize. House grabbed a stack of files and wobbled his way into Exam Room 2. That is where he plopped into his doctor chair and while waiting for the first patient to arrive, he fell asleep.

_Authors Note: I know it seems like the walls are crumbling down for House and Wilson in this story right now but I assure you things will work out. I just recently had enough free time to reread what I have already written and it occurred to be it was a bit "too happy" for a story all about House and Wilson. They have their fights on the show so why can't they have a little tiff in my story. Plus…well…this story is kind of reflecting how I feel right now. I am just mentally and emotionally upset with the world. Not my readers…you guys cheer me up every day. More-or-less, I am frustrated with my own boyfriend and how school is just too stressful for the end of the year. But I will get better by the time I update again. Which will be soon. The rain clouds will clear. In both my worlds. _


	26. The Sun Will Come Out

hapter Twenty-Six: The Sun Will Come Out

_A/N: The following chapter may be a bit different compared to anything else I have written and I am sorry if you don't like it. I was just trying my best to get inside House's head and I created this on a whim of hope. It may be lame, it may be brilliant. But please tell me what you think..._

House was comfortable where he was at. Sound asleep in the doctor's clinic room chair he was finally able to get that sleep he rightfully deserved. In his dream he was just floating aimlessly on something soft, wispy, and warm. All he was aware of was gentle relaxing comfort, and a black empty room all around him.

Suddenly, a bright angry light appeared in the right corner of his vision, and all he saw was red, not a human or animal, just a scarlet light. House felt his eyes involuntarily squint to the light and when he turned his face away from it he heard_ it _speak. "Jimmy acted ungrateful towards what you did _for him_ last night, Greg. Just ignore him," The voice sounded bitter and harsh, just as House had heard his own voice that morning.

House was in shock that a faceless, formless _thing _could be talking to him…in his own voice. He shook his head in disbelief and tried reaching into his jacket pocket for his iPod but realized with a jolt, that he didn't have a body. He felt the presence of tightness in his chest due to fear. All of a sudden, in the left hand corner of his line of vision he spotted a soft white glow, and when this one spoke it was soothing and helpful. "Relax Greg," it said in a voice like his mother used to, "_I'm_ here to help you do the right thing."

House's mind clicked on and he started analyze the situation. Taking a deep breath without lungs, his mind raced with the thoughts of: _You're just hallucinating due to lack of sleep, overstress, and extreme pain in your thigh…just relax… _As if something was controlling his thoughts his mind switched on mute and the wrathful red spoke again, "Pay attention. I am trying to make you realize something!" The mad red glow brightened intensely.

"Oh, please. Don't listen to him. Greg, _he_ is trying to get you into trouble. I am here to help make things right," the tender voice said as its pale light pulsed mildly. "Let James apologize to you. He is truly sorry and just doesn't know how to apologize to you without getting you even more upset with him."

"I know what you can do," the uncompromising cynical voice said as the glow burned into House's vision; "You can continue what you've been doing all morning. And when James comes up to you just limp away and ignore him," The nice voice sighed at this response.

House's inner conscience turned on for a brief moment as he finally realized what his mind was doing. His heart was having a battle of good vs. evil. Just like in all those cartoons he would watch as a kid. He didn't want to give into the "Devil" again. Last time he did that he lost the only woman whom he ever loved with all his heart and started being a jack-ass to all people. What would happen if he turned his back on Wilson? House didn't want to think of that result. He heard his own confident voice speak, "I'll do it," and he awoke to the sound of a door opening…

_(Around the time House fell asleep, Wilson is still in his car)_

Wilson's guilt was weighing him down big time. As he drove through the falling rain he thought to himself with his normally self-critical tone _Look what you've done now, Jimmy-Boy. You've screwed up the only thing that matters to you in this world and now the one person whom you care about is ignoring you. _He came to a stoplight and waited there for the light to change, running a hand through his hair in nervous thought.

Looking down at the time on his car stereo he realized he was right on schedule. He also noticed that a CD was in the stereo. Letting his mind race backwards in time to which CD was in there last he recalled it was the mixed CD that House made for him a while back. With a heavy heart he pressed play, and started to drive again for the light had turned green.

The first song that played was one of the songs that they heard at the concert they went to so many months ago. It was Goo Goo Dolls hit song "Iris". Of course Wilson recognized the song right away because of the concert and his ex-wife loved the soundtrack that it was from. But instead of listening to the lyrics as if the singer was singing them, James heard Greg singing them. The words came through the speakers were House's unspoken words of his heart.

Wilson shaking with holding back the tears as he pulled into the hospital's parking garage. He continued to listen to the song with his full-attention as he stayed his car in the parking spot. It was if he had never heard the song before because the words washed over him with sadness and release. Eventually towards the end of the five minute song he started to cry. His guilt coming out with his tears and he felt better with each teardrop that fell.

After the song was over, the CD turned off because it was the last one on the disc. Wilson wiped his dark brown eyes and took a deep reassuring breath. When he spoke out loud to himself his voice sounded shaky but sure of itself, "You can do this. Find Greg. Apologize." With a glance in his mirror to make sure he still looked presentable, James turned off his car, and climbed out of it.

It wasn't raining anymore. The sun had emerged from the grayish purple clouds and it was shining its warmth and support down on Wilson as he entered the hospital. As he walked up to the nurse's station he had a march in his step, he was a man on a mission for peace. He asked the blond-haired nurse behind the counter if she had seen House. She nodded and pointed to Exam Room 2 and said, "He went in there but no patients have gone in yet,"

Wilson gave her a grateful smile and nod and marched his way right into the room where his lover was, bursting open the door as he did so.

House awoke with a start and the first thing he saw was the exact thing he wanted to see. Wilson standing there with an apologetic look and a set of determined bloodshot brown eyes.

Wilson saw that his lover was asleep but that his facial expression was softer and nicer compared to the harsh one he had left with this morning. He started to speak, his tone full of vigor and self-assuredness, "Greg. I just wanted to say that I am sorry I was selfish last night. I didn't show any gratitude for you being there for me all night, I just expected more and more. I am sorry I didn't take your leg into account—"

He was politely and romantically cut off by House's lips. While Wilson was going though his apology speech House was standing up and walking closer to his lover. When James mentioned Greg's leg, House's "Angel" conscience told him to go in for the kiss. And it had never been sweeter than at that moment.

Wilson was happy to be with the House he had grown to love and when the long kiss ended, he gave a loopy smile and a drunken voice, "So…I take it we're okay, Greg?"

House smiled a sly but loving smile and he looked out the clinic room's half-closed blinds and saw sunshine streaming through the lobby's windows and replied, "The sun is shining isn't it?"

James glanced at House upside and downside and gave his lover a quizzical look as if he had shaved again, "Are you saying...that your mood towards our love changes with the weather like some sort of mood changing piece of jewelry?"

Greg looked out the glass wall again, and closed the blinds the whole way to give the lovers more privacy, and smiled innocently down at his Sketchers his mind in a state of deep thought.

Wilson put his hands on his hips in his pose of waiting for an answer and bent his head down to try to look into House's baby blue eyes, "Well...what really caused this? Drug? Lack of sleep? Why are you suddenly in love with me again. Don't say it was the sun,"

House looked up, into Wilson's brown sneaky eyes and smiled for he had finally found the word he was looking for in his internal dictionary, "It was my conscience. I didn't want to lose you to the evil in me."

"How romantic," Wilson said in an unbelievingtone. The idea that House had a conscience based on all that he's done that borders on illegal and defiantly dives into the waters of unmoral and unethical was something to scoff at.

House tilted his head, feeling the stab of sarcasm from Wilson and took a deep breath before continuing, "I dreamt about doing the right thing. I don't want to lose our friendship and I most of all don't want to lose the man I have grown to need and love as much as air,"

After a sudden mental flashback of catching House asleep, Wilson noticed the seriousness of House's facial expression and the tone of his voice had no childlike mischief waves in it so he softened his own face, "You are serious aren't you?"

House gave a slow nod and made eye contact with Wilson again. Both men stared at each other. Reading their faces in a silent apology. And a meaningful forgiveness. Wilson cleared his throat and said with all his personal muster, "I will work on being so needy of you, Greg."

Greg nodded and made a strong effort to look into Wilson's eyes and he felt most of the pain he felt in his heart wash away with the words he spoke, "I will work on not lashing out at you for something I wanted in the first place,"

Both men shared a moment of smiles and eye contact. If they were to look outside there would be a rainbow of peace over their heads and sunshine beating on the backs of their necks. The rain of gulit was gone as the weight was lifted.

And then they kissed as if their first fight meant nothing to them.

But they had to pull away. There was a patient knocking on the door waiting to be treated. At least they were nice enough to knock.

_A/N: So what do you think? Weird? Romantic? Strange? Well-Written? As always my readers I am so grateful for anything that you tell me…as long as it's not a burn at the perfect couple described above. I wrote this based on my own mindset when I was thinking about how I was going to talk to my boyfriend. I had a lot of "Conscience Battles" and I thought it would be fun to make House go through the same thing. But as always…the "Angel Side" should always win. (And it did) I am also putting up another poem I wrote for Chapter 27. Thanks for making my first story reach 100 Comments! You guys are incredible!_


	27. Sunshine Equals Love A Poem

A/N: Yes…it's another poem that I wrote

_A/N: Yes…it's another poem that I wrote. It was actually written for me and my boyfriend but now that I wrote Chapter 26 and it has to do with comparing sunshine to love…I thought I would put it up. You may comment if you wish but all I ask, as always, please NO COPYING my work (Stories or poems). I hope to be a published writer someday and my writing is important to me. Thanks in advance and enjoy!_

Your Sun Will Never Fade On Me Now

I want to stand in your sun,

So I can forget what they've done,

To my fragile fading heart,

And put together part by part,

With your gentle guiding hand,

In your sun I will proudly stand,

You are the glue that holds me together,

And I will feel your warmth in any weather,

On and on you will shine on me,

Until with you I can finally be,

Even now when I am supposed to be cold,

The warmth of your love is good as gold.


	28. Just Another Day in Paradise

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Just Another Day in Paradise

March 21, 2008

House had all his eggs in one basket…and he was enjoying it. For the first time in a long while he was_ almost_ completely stress-free. Patients count as stress so he grudgingly started to accept patient-of-the-week files again. The regular routine that he had was so used to before he and Wilson got involved seemed foreign and out-of-place. He slowly eased his way back into being Dr. Sherlock Holmes.

Greg had also finished the clinic make-up before the deadline of May 20th; with little to no help from James for the final stretch. House had to prove himself, leg pain and all, that he could complete a job if it was given to him, and he could complete it well.

Sure, the last clinic hour seemed to drag on forever and the patient persisted there was something wrong with him, and House just dismissed the adolescent with a forced smile and a strained, "Take some DayQuil; its only seasonal allergies, not an upper respiratory infection. Surfing the web for reasons to come here is pain in my butt and yours because last time I checked those clinic chairs aren't that comfortable. I assure you…you will live." With the final clinic case filled out and filed he felt free. Free enough to whisk Wilson away for a celebratory trip to New York after work one Friday.

Wilson was the one who suggested their little escapade to the Big Apple. Over lunch he dropped a subtle idea that they should just get away for a few days. Just the two of them should disappear somewhere where they can just be concerned about themselves and their comfort and not patients and completed clinic hours.

He used his good work record to talk Cuddy into giving them Easter Weekend off. She obliged because she was astounded by House's ability to do what he was told and do the entire clinic hours assigned to him. He also had completed the case she had given him that morning. On his lunch break Wilson went home to pack a weekend bag of clothes for both men and met House at the parking garage at quitting time. He felt his heart swell with happiness because he could accurately say that House loved him again and that he loved House even more.

The weather was shining with early spring sunshine and for the first time in 2008 House was able to ride his motorcycle on the roads. He loved being on that thing. The wind whizzing by his body so everything was a blur and the fact that the 360 view of the world started to show signs of green and nature waking up after a cold winter sleep. But what he loved most was Wilson's arms wrapped tightly around his torso. It felt good to finally feel that connection of care around him and not the weight of guilt weighing him down.

Friday evening was mostly spent driving to New York on the all-too-familiar route that House took on the way to the concert. The bright city lights and long highways leading them to it was like a warm smile; beckoning them to visit. Sure, it was crowded in the city on that Friday night. Of course the streets were packed with people. But did the couple care? No. Of course not. All they cared about was reaching the hotel.

Once there, the doctors checked in, ate a delicious buffet of fantastic New York cuisine, and went to bed. That was where House and Wilson stayed in bed enjoying the opportunity to stay up and watch movies together, laughing and conversing with one another, and the fun of love a few times before they fell asleep and snored like the middle-aged men that they were. It was like they were on their honeymoon.

The following Saturday included sleeping in past the non-existent alarm clock and ordering in breakfast when they woke up around 10:30. It was nice to have a break from normal routine. They spent the day touring all of New York's sights that they had seen vaguely on doctor conferences to the city but never really got the chance to see first-hand. They obviously took the public transportation everywhere, for two reasons. One, a cripple leg plus a lot of walking on city blocks, equals a lot of pain. And two, public transport is part of the city experience.

They saw the Museum of Natural History which was extremely intriguing because of the funny movie they had rented from the hotel room the night before. They saw the Statue of Liberty on Her island and even went to Ellis Island, and when there they talked about their ethnic roots. It was House's idea because his curious mind kept on the curiosity about New York. House was of English and German decent and Wilson had a lot of European mix-ups such as Italian and French. They shrugged and carried on with their day, smiling at one another with that silent admiration whenever they could.

They concluded the jam-packed evening with last-minute tickets to a play. It was Wilson's idea. He had always wanted to see a play on New York's Broadway. Theater had always been a secret passion of his. When he was in high school he would look forward to reading Shakespeare in English class. He would also be called a nerd for it, but he didn't care. House and theater? Well he went because he knew it would make Wilson happy. And plus he was still apologizing internally for being such a jack-ass to his lover that week. So he went. And didn't complain. Much.

Easter was the next day…and the eggs of love and relief kept going in their baskets.

_A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter. I wanted to update one last time before I went on vacation. Expect a update as soon as I can and have a good time until I write again. Also I do realize once again that this is a bit different and maybe even out-of-character at times but I am rushed to complete this in enough time. Please leave a comment if you can and thanks again to all the kind people who favourite this story. Bye for now!_


	29. What Do You Mean Easter Eggs

Chapter Twenty-Nine: What Do You Mean Easter Eggs

Chapter Twenty-Nine: What Do You Mean Easter Eggs?

March 23rd: Easter Morning, Hotel Suite

Wilson woke up first on Easter Morning. The mid-morning light streamed through the hotel's thin white curtains and right onto his face so he woke up gently and slowly; the way he preferred compared to an alarm clock blaring in his ears. Yawning and stretching he noticed that House was still asleep soundly next to him. James noticed the rough stubble that covered Greg's jaw, and how the faint golden light shining on half of his face made him look almost angelic. Well. Almost. He smiled to himself and slowly and carefully to not wake House up, climbed out of bed and into the bathroom.

Once there, Wilson saw the hotel mini-bottles of shampoo and conditioner and body wash and decided to take a relaxing vacation bath. Closing the door softly behind him, he also turned on the brass hot water faucet. As he stepped out of his briefs his eye caught a laminated pamphlet next to the sink and towels. Picking it up and reading it over, he smiled again to himself, an idea popping in his head.

_The "Angel" Wakes Up_

"What the hell do you mean an 'Easter Egg Hunt For Grown-Ups?'" House growled to Wilson, his blue eyes that were groggy from sleep a moment ago, were now wide with confusion and disbelief. James sat on his edge of the bed, towel drying his hair, the hotel bathrobe hugging his damp form, and smiled at Greg, this time with hopefully more muster than before.

"It is exactly what it sounds like. We go downstairs into the lobby, get a GPS and a rental car, and we travel around New York logging for adult prizes, or "eggs"." House looked at his lover like _he had to be joking, please tell me you're joking, I am much too old for kiddy games._ Wilson would not be silenced, he kept on going, this time more confident to get through to the difficult man with the newspaper on his lap, and his blue eyes staring right through him.

"It would be something fun we can do together, it fits the holiday, you said you wanted to see more of New York before we go home later tonight. _And_ the grand prize is a Nintendo Wii with three of our choice of games." With the last argument said, James lifted his bushy brown eyebrows and smiled hopefully at House.

House was convinced at the Wii part, but he squinted his eyes once more, one more question on his mind, and Wilson read it before it was spoken. He stood up and walked over to House's side of the bed, "Don't worry, Greg. You won't need to walk anywhere except out of the car and out of the elevator into the lobby. When we are there I will pay for us to participate in the Hunt. Give it a shot, please." A little pout used here. "For me?"

Greg's icy and morning heart melted at the sight of those big brown puppy eyes and pout, and he smirked in return. "I'll not only do it for you to get that pitiful look off your face, but so I can beat your ass at some good ol' fun of video games,"

Wilson's true angelic face beamed, "Good." He straightened up to walk towards the suitcase near the foot of the bed, "It starts at 11:00 so we have about 45 minutes for you and I to get some breakfast--"

Before he could finish he was cut off with a pulling of the collar of his robe so he was lying on top of House and a stubbled kiss. House slipped one of his hands under the robe, the other one untying the sash so his lover was naked on top of him, and he smirked again, the devilish side showing himself again, and muttered into Wilson's neck, "Good. Cause I am hungry,"

_Down in the lobby about 45 minutes later_

"I can't believe you made us miss Free Brunch."

"Oh, like you didn't enjoy yourself up there. You are friskier almost every time."

"Stop it. You are embarrassing me. And besides…we are in public. No one should know what we are up to in New York."

John and Blythe House stepped out of the hotel elevator and walked up to the lobby desk. On the way there, John took one of the "free" bananas from a bowl of fruit being carried away by a bell-hop. The ripped off-woman was climbing onto the elevator they just got off of. Blythe gave him a stern look as he peeled the fruit and took a bite, but faked a pleasant smile to the uniformed man behind the desk. "Hello. We would like too tickets to the 'Easter Egg Hunt for Grown-Ups', please"

The man smiled politely and ripped two tickets off of a reel, "That would be 100.00 please Mrs. House," Blythe gave her husband another disapproving look, as if she expected him to cover the bill. She pulled out her checkbook and started to write a check.

John was still eating his banana, his legs spread equally apart, but his back was to the desk, he was watching the perimeter. He watched everyone walk by with blue watchful eyes that his only son had inherited. The usual crowd. Travelers. Bell-hops. Business men and pretty trophy wives. No surprises. Without giving it a second thought, he stuffed the empty banana peel in a potted plant near the desk.

The elevator dinged open again and one thing the ex-army sergeant was surprised to see was his son limp out with his best friend. They were giving each other a secret smile, their eyes only on each other as if the rest of this crowded lobby didn't matter. As if in slow motion he watched as his son turn towards the counter and approach it, and then the shared blue eyes met. One pair stayed confused. The other one became fearful and wide.

_A/N: Please, please, please forgive the long wait. My family wanted me to spend more time with them this summer. Instead of staying with my school friends as originally planned I am here with the entire group that raised me. As much as I love to be around familiar faces, I wanted to write more of this story. I finally found a computer and enough free time to write. Tell me what you think. Was it a good thing or a bad thing that House also has to go through a "Family Reunion"? What do you think should happen next? All of your opinions matter and I have missed you all very much. It might be a couple weeks until I get around to comment replies, but feel free. Hope wherever you are, you are happy and enjoying life. I am. For the most part. Gotta run. Home cookin' beckons!_


	30. Have Fun Kids

Chapter Thirty: Have Fun Kids!

_A/N: I am trying so desperately to stay in character, but it's hard, especially when dealing with characters that have only shown their face once. But please bear with me on this one. House may be a bit out-of-character in this chapter. Part of the reason is because I haven't seen his show in a long (painful) time. And part of it, is I don't know how he would deal with the content provided. I hope you like this chapter, because it's good to be back writing full time. Vacations away from computers suck. Enjoy! Please leave a review too if you could!_

Wilson's deep mud-brown eyes were fixed on the main lobby counter. He saw the back of some elderly woman's head, but he was instead focusing on the concierge helping her. The man was a tall, thin man with short-cropped red hair and freckles, with gray eyes shining, but he wasn't at all attractive. _Maybe, I am only in love with Greg and not all men…_he thought to himself, glancing at House to reassure his thought. He saw his lover freeze with his eyes widened.

"What's wrong, Greg?" Wilson asked softly and with a hint of fear. "Does your leg hurt at all?" He was watching his lover with doctor eyes. The brown irises started examining him for signs of trauma or pain. House was just noticeably shaking and his breathing rate had slightly changed for the faster.

House's lips didn't say anything, but his eyes darted to and from his father several times, hoping Wilson would get the hint and change his mind about the Egg Hunt. But before he could whisper _Let's get the hell outta here_…his mother turned around from the counter.

"Greg?" Blythe's shocked voice spoke and the sound of it made John break out of his staring-at-his-son-trance. Her tone of voice reached stern when she spoke to her husband, "Why didn't you go over and say hello, John?" She swung her black leather purse over her shoulder and started walking briskly over to her son. Blythe's arms were open despite the fact that John was giving her a disapproving look.

House couldn't help himself. When his mother came close enough to him that he could smell her maternal always-the-same perfume; and he saw the same make-up she had always worn but now more of, he had to welcome her embrace. The hug was weak on the other end though. Blythe was getting older and the hug wasn't as strong or comforting as it had been. But when he stepped away from the two-second long hug he felt emptier than he had before. As if something wasn't right he gave his mom and dad a confused look, and asked in a worried tone, "What are you doing here in New York?"

John approached the group of three and was now staring over James. He didn't know what to think of House and Wilson together, on a vacation. Both doctors were in extremely casual clothes and he noticed a half-hidden smile reflecting in the oncologist's eyes. "I could ask you two the same thing," John's gaze shifted between his son and James, with a raised eyebrow and eyes hard with observance.

James stepped in, not literally for he was already close enough to everyone, but he felt a huge urge to stand up for House and himself. "We are here as just a mini-break from work. It's been hectic at the hospital lately so Cuddy gave us the weekend off."

John's quizzical face now made every wrinkle in his forehead get deeper, matching his misunderstanding. "She let you take Easter Weekend off? What about all the cases of stomach problems due to kids eating too much candy?"

House mentally controlled his eye rolling and his annoyed sigh, instead looked his dad straight in the eye, and courageously said, "Those are for some other holiday. I think the one with ghosts and goblins," What he didn't say, but wanted to, was: _Why don't you stay in my past, because I don't believe in ghosts of bad memories._

Blythe nodded at her son's response and then shifted the plastic bag with the GPS in her hands. "We are out here looking for a home we can retire in. And this hotel was closest to where we are looking at buying." She looked out the window at the cars and people go by, thinking to herself that the city is the perfect place to be: The historical sights, alone time in a small apartment above the shopping districts. Pure bliss.

Wilson's eyes shifted to the clock and smiled at his lover's parents with a patient but frazzled smile, "Do you think that we can stop somewhere on this Egg Hunt and have a late lunch together? I know that you have been trying to reach Greg for some time now…" What James noticed and it made his heart pang with a bit of guilt was House's ever so subtle bitter look in his eyes directed at him. He tried to reflect the words _I will be there for you,_ with his own eye contact.

House took a quick sigh and then faked a smile, "Sure. Why not? I hear China Town is good for some cultural cuisine,"

Blythe's hazel eyes lit up and she smiled brightly hugging both House and Wilson, the hug once again weakly and hurried, "That will be splendid! I will call you on your cell phone, James." With a slight smirk on her weathered face she added, "Because Greg never seems to answer the phone when he knows it's me."

Greg's icy blue eyes refroze over with frustration but he playfully rolled his eyes because he didn't want the anger to wash over him in front of his father. With a nod from his mom, both his parents left the group and walked outside. John was scowling and saying something under his breath. All Blythe did was nod, with a wrinkle-worried forehead and it looked like she was trying to hide her true emotions.

James watched them leave, while pulling out his wallet to pay for the event, and slowly spoke his observation, "They seem to be having problems. Your mom seems less spunky then she usually is. And your dad…he's awfully quiet and seems to disapprove of something…" House took advantage of Wilson's distraction and paid for the Egg Hunt, GPS, and two cups of coffee.

As House handed his lover the coffee, Wilson grasped the warm cup in surprise, and Greg said with a pang of deeply buried guilt and regret in his voice, "Yeah. He's disappointed in me," With that, he sipped his coffee, black with sugar, and limped on towards the glass sliding doors.

James was hurt by Greg's reply and watched him limp forward. He was having trouble walking with pride, as if just receiving the quiet glare from his father took a physical blow to his leg. But as Wilson walked to catch up with him, he noticed that House had outside sunlight streaming on the top of his head, like a subtle halo of childish innocence. He was concerned for House, but he didn't know how to ask the questions without seeming like an idiot. So instead he climbed into the driver's seat of the car, watched House install the GPS, and just gave his lover a hidden-pained-but-supportive smile.

House noticed the look behind Wilson's eyes, swallowed hard, gave himself an exhale of relaxation, stared down at his locked hands in his lap. Wilson didn't even start the car yet, his hands on the steering wheel dropped to House's, the truly-caring-worried for-you eyebrows raised to his hairline. Greg's hands didn't cling to James's, in fact, they stayed cold, white-knuckled, and unmoving. They stayed in silence, the only sounds were the cars that pulled out of the parking garage around them, and the people getting into them. Thank God for tinted windows, they were going to come in handy for the rest of the day.

"If you have anything to say, just say it. It's never good to keep what's bothering you inside, Greg."

"…"

"Whatever it is, I will be here for you. I promised you that remember? I will always be around to heal you,"

"…"

"Please, Greg, it's eating you up. I can see so many emotions and memories in your eyes, but they are getting blurry. If you need to cry, I won't tell anyone."

"…"

"Will music help? Are you worried about people other than me hearing? Here, music always helps you…not that song…here, _I'll Stand by You_: By the Pretenders. Listen to the lyrics, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and say it,"

Deep breath, eyes squinted shut, top lip biting the bottom one, and…"My dad…" he started, and ever so slightly flinched as if tattle-taling on his father would cause more pain. But there was so much held-in behind his eyes that it was like he was running full speed towards a cliff on his bad leg. He had to get to the edge and leap, because then the pain would finally be released in the open sky for only one person to see. That person was sitting next to him now. And he trusted that person would be at the bottom of the cliff to catch him.

James put a hand on his lover's shoulder and rubbed the stiff anxious muscle as if it would unclench House's whole body. He was stiff as a board and shaking like a leaf, and hardly breathing. "Breathe Greg. Get some blood flow to that brain of yours. Let it out," He said calmly and slowly.

House gave a deep shaky breath, his crystalline blue eyes pinching even more shut as if to get a better view of the images behind his eyelids Bravely, after he heard the person in the car next to them drive away, he continued, "He…he abused me when I was young…and my mom was an alcoholic who cheated on him…"

Then the tears fall, his eyes as blue and crystal clear as the innocence that they held, and Wilson was there to catch the tears with a tightly-bound hug. James wrapped his arms around the crippled sobbing man, and softly shushed the waterfall of emotional tears away, but they kept coming out as if they've been held in for decades. Wilson suspected that they had.

House still remained tense in his arms, as if being comforted by another man was an unmanly thing to do, and after a while shifted himself out of Wilson's arms. He wiped his long face hurriedly as if evidence of a feminine emotion was a disappointment to his old man. Buckling his seat belt, "Drive," he said coldly with only the slightest warm tear sliding down his rough cheek.

"Greg, if I had known…"

"Drive," House turned to the driver, more hurt than anger in his face and voice, "Just drive and distract me. We want that Wii don't we?"

Wilson realized if he pushed the subject further, than House would probably get angry for being worried over. So, he buckled his own seat belt, the click of the safety device seeming to echo in the car. House cranked the music on the car stereo, "Stand By Me: by Ben E. King, and buried his mind in the lyrics. Wilson started the engine; the sound of it lost in the voice of the singer, and pulled out of the parking garage.

_First Finding_

"Look! On the GPS there is a blip on this street!"

"It looks like it's a male clothing store, do you want to check it out?"

"So I can look like I enjoy wearing a suit and tie? That's _your_ job."

"You never know Greg, the pamphlet says that _any _store can be hiding any_thing_,"

Sigh. "Fine."

After walking in the store, finding the bright yellow sign, and the prize underneath it, one of the soul mates climbed in the car with a smirk the other with a sigh of wasted time.

"I got a new tie! I got a new tie!" One voice sang out in joy.

"You don't even wear ties, Greg. Why are you so excited?" the driver asked as he pulled back onto the street.

House tied the tie around his forehead so it looked like a war bandana, its bright colors clashing with his grey sweater, but he didn't care. Just as long as it wasn't too tight so his sarcasm could still function properly, "Because there are several uses for a tie, not all of them have to be stored in a dresser in color-coordinated order"

Sigh. "I get it. I am a neat-freak…At least one of us is,"

_Second Sweet Success_

"There's been nothing on this street for miles," House moaned, trying to find a new radio station in boredom.

"Thank you Mr. Navigator, I am trying to avoid traffic zones, and you just have to be patient," Wilson took some deep breaths.

Hmph. "But I'm on vacation. I want everything and I want it now,"

"Just because you cried like a little kid, doesn't mean you have to act like one…It's obvious you are an only child,"

House ignored the hurtful statement because orange blip on GPS is more important, "There's one up here. Turn left! Turn left!"

A jewelry store lay behind the next left turn, its glass windows reflecting in the afternoon sunlight, the displays in the windows sparkling too, Wilson parked, unclicked, and turned to House, "I will get this one, because it's on my side of the car."

"Fine by me. I need a drug break anyway," House shrugged, and popped out his pills, taking the required amount. Watching Wilson climb out of the car he couldn't help notice how he fit in the jeans. Just right. The thought of seeing the man without clothes on sent a chill and then a heat rush to through his blood. _I am a lucky man. _He thought, and it felt good to think without revealing what he was thinking to anyone. _I don't think this life would be as half-good without James here to fill me up with what he can._

The man from his thoughts entered the car holding something in the palm of his hands, and closed the door once he was seated. House saw nothing besides a patch of artificial fur and then Wilson unclenched his hands. Greg saw a little stuffed brown rabbit with long ears holding a mini-pillow that said in fancy calligraphy, "Let's Talk, I'll Listen" Both full-grown men glanced at the bunny as if it was given to them by fate, and then smiled at one another. House's eyes shone with childlike joy instead of sorrow, and Wilson's were full of support and endless love.

The love reflecting in the rabbit's big brown glassy eyes showed that the two men shared a quick kiss. Not a sexual one. More like, "I am glad I have someone to encourage and someone to make me feel as whole as possible" kind of kiss. And that was the best kind there was. Well, the best kind they could do in public.

_Wii Would Like to Play_

"I love you,"

"I will always love you, because you give me something to love and look after,"

"Awww…and I thought the bunny was sweet."

"I mean it though,"

"I know. And I will always love you because, well, you assure me that I am not alone,"

"You've never been alone, because I have always been here. And I always will,"

"Green!"

"Yes, Greg, I know the light is green. I'm going the speed limit so we will get through--"

"No, Jim. Green Blip! At the Toy Store!"

Wilson turned as fast and as safely as he could into the parking space and turned off the car. There was already a slight line of people getting out of their cars and rushing up to the enterance. But House climbed out, avoided the cars and people around him, and rushed and pushed his way to the front. Wilson followed in his trail, apologizing to people who got rudely pushed to the side because of House. Greg was inside the store before James had gotten to the front door.

As soon as Wilson had made it in the brightly colored and packed store, he heard his lover's indistinguishable voice whoop out in joy, "Yes! I got it! I got the Wii! In your faces! The cripple succeeds! All of you will have to limp your checkbooks forward to afford something as special as this! Ha-ha-ha-ha,"

James found his lover, in the middle of the video game section. House was lifting the white box containing the Wii and three neon yellow stickers on it above his swollen head, the tie swinging from side to side with House's body motions. Wilson strutted over to House, shaking his head in slight embarrassment, but mostly love. Only House would have enough guts to stand out like that, and just not care, and that is what made him love him even more.

The salesperson in her department, walked over to House with a scanner, and asked in a professional tone, that hid the laughter etched onto her face, "Are you a participator in the Egg Hunt Mr…?"

House nodded once and with finality, "Yes. And I have the tickets to prove it," He handed the woman the prize and reached into his pocket to find the two tickets, but couldn't find them. Wilson entered the area and stood by his side.

"You can't claim the prize unless you have proof that you are a paying customer of the Hilton Hotel, sir," her voice more serious now, but her green eyes watching House's every move.

Wilson noticed that there was two beige ticket stubs under House's shoe, and he bent down to pick them up mumbling, "House. Move your left foot," House heard this, got a better view of the tight butt that he loved so dearly, and did what he was told. Wilson lifted the two tickets in the air as if they were golden tickets, "Here they are. They must have fallen out of your pockets, Greg,"

House looked astounded at Wilson's observance skills, but nodded, when he noticed his signature on each stub. "These are them, miss," James handed them to the red-headed salesperson who then scanned the ticket and then the Wii box.

The young woman looked at the scanner and then smiled at her tie-wearing secret crush, "Thank you, Dr. House. The Wii is yours. Choose your games from this selection," she motioned dramatically to the shelves and shelves of games behind House.

The crippled man gave Wilson a wide-eyed excited look and the Wii box, and started making his way around. All Wilson could do was stand there, smile at House, and hold the heavy box. One of the people in the disappearing crowd gave Wilson a cart and a smile, which he took gratefully. Suddenly he heard his lover yell from behind the shelf, "Come here Wilson! They have games you'd like!"

Wilson thanked the old woman who gave up her cart to him and she just smiled with a child-like twinkle in her eye, and said with more youth than her face showed, "Have fun kids,"


	31. Family Matters

Chapter Thirty-One: Family

Chapter Thirty-One: Family. Matters.

Wilson pushed the red shopping cart towards House's voice from behind the shelf of action video games; feeling his heart swell with that warmth again. But before he could get there, he felt his phone vibrate in his jeans' pocket. Stopping the cart just before turning the corner, he answered his silver Razor cell phone, "Hello? Blythe?"

"Hi…James? Are you getting hungry for some lunch?" Bythe's soft voice pulsed in his ear, barely audible compared to the Aerosmith Guitar Hero sounds coming from House's direction.

"Actually, yes. I am. Hold on. Let me ask Greg," James replied as he covered one ear to hear the soft-spoken voice better. He had the red-headed salesperson hold the cart while he walked up to his lover, who was, sure enough, jamming out to the sounds of his own video game skills.

House was sitting in a leather chair he probably swiped from the computer section of the store, and playing the interactive video game on Expert. His fingers flying on the colorful buttons, face locked in concentration, and eyes hardly blinking with unwavering commitment. Wilson strolled over to House and tapped him on the shoulder.

The guitarist jumped so high that the bulky headphones he had around his ears fell off, and he missed about eight notes on the guitar solo. With a quick pause of his game, he jerked his head behind him, and smiled at his inspiration. "You won't believe how cool this game is…they have so many songs and it's easy to get the hang of…" House paused, studying the thick eyebrows and the brown deep-set eyes, "My mom called didn't she?"

Brown-eyes closed his eyes and nodded, and when he opened them he tried show an empathetic smile, "She wants to know if you're hungry for lunch,"

When House saw the look on Wilson's face, half of his response expression was gratitude the other half was aggravation, "Well. Lunch with them just took my appetite away," With that said, he stared all of his built up nameless emotions on the screen and continued his song, with extra force than before.

Wilson bent down, pressed the pause button on the console, and gently swiveled the office chair around so House was glaring into his eye contact. "Please, Greg. It might be good for you to see your parents again. And," he checked to make sure his hand was covering the mouth piece of his cell phone, "You've grown up since you saw them last. You realize the mistakes they made, and you've realized they were bad ones. But you can't change the past. The past is put behind us for a reason,"

House's gaze slowly began to soften and melt into the pools of tenderness instead of icy cold anger. But he still had an edge to his gaze, the last icicle of regret still lingering behind his vision. Wilson could hear the icicle's sharpness with House's next words, and the anger cut into his own heart with sympathy. "What reason is that? So old cripples like me can try to limp away from what they want so badly to run away from? The past catches up to me…and you want me to _smile_ at it?"

James smiled as warmly and honestly as he could, but he didn't have to try too hard, he came naturally like that. He bent down so he was level with House's sitting form, "No," he said simply and quietly, "The past is there as nothing more than a way to bring two broken hearts together. And those hearts can learn to fix each other," His brown eyes shone with comfort and understanding of a hundred sorrows.

Greg's ice puddle eyes had finally found the sun's compromise behind James's and he sighed deeply, and attempted a courageous smile, "That is why you're a better doctor than me. You actually lie poetically," James raised his eyebrow as if to say nonverbally _I don't lie…that's your job._

Finally, after hearing his own mother's muffled voice, House took the phone from his lover, and said, "We will be at the Royal Dragon in twenty minutes," He listened to his mom, nodded, and even smirked a few times, "Okay. Italian food instead? There is this really good one about ten minutes from here."

Wilson watched the blue eyes shine with joy and then beamed when he heard what House said next, "Guess what? I got the Grand Prize!" When he heard his mother's response, ("Your father _really_ wanted that,"), the diognostian gave a fist pump of success. After lightly chatting for a while, Greg finished with a bit of heart behind his voice, "I'll see you soon…_Mom_,"

_…On the Road Again…I just can't wait to get on the road again…_

After House and Wilson decided on their three free games (Rock Band, Mario Party 8, and The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess) they climbed into the car on the way to dinner. James asked if Greg was going to be able to handle being near his parents without getting too upset. All he got in response was a dismissive shrug and the music getting louder; Bon Jovi: _It's My Life_. After turning off the GPS, the driver pulled back onto the main road.

When House didn't really like his situation, his Analysis Radar turned on to block out what he was about to face, and all the apprehensive emotions that came with it. He looked out the window, with the stuffed bunny on his shoulder, hand resting on his rough cheek. What he saw didn't really help how he was feeling.

Greg noticed families walking on the sidewalks, holding hands, laughing, taking pictures, buying souvenirs. House's cold stare also noticed a little boy with lightish brown hair and wide light eyes, sitting on his dad's U.S. Army uniformed shoulders. The boy was smiling and the dad was pointing to the nearest skyscraper, explaining something about it. Before House could put his face on the little boy for two long, Wilson had turned onto the right side streets.

James noticed Greg's faraway look on his stone face, and when he pulled over into the restaurants lightly packed parking lot, he turned to face his lover. "We don't have to go in just yet. Do you want to talk about anything before we go inside?"

Silence from the passenger seat, House was trying to get a better look at the young boy, but it took him awhile to grasp he was more than a mile away from him. Soon he faced the driver and sighed, "Why didn't I have a brother? At least that way my parents wouldn't have gone through all the shit they did. If there were _two_ kids to worry about…"

Wilson noticed that House's distant look had a sliver of confusion mixed in and tried to smile, "Greg. You were an only child so you could learn how to take care of yourself. If you had a sibling, then there would have been sibling rivalry." He unclicked his seat-belt and scooted closer to House, "_Trust me_. Having a sibling just adds more to the pain we all feel growing up."

House's mouth was a flat line, his eyes scanning the outside world on overdrive, and then he detected his parents climb out of their black rental car. He sighed and whispered, "They're here. Let's get this painful hell _over with_," House put the bunny under the seat, and he kissed his lover as if the lips on his would give him more strength. They did.

James's expressive eyes sparkled with unwavering love and he smiled bravely enough for the two of them. "You'll be _just fine_." His voice said securely and confidently, "I promise. Your dad and mom are here on the surface," He lifted his soft hands to House's forehead where he gently untied the tie from its out-of-place-resting-place. "But_ I_ will always be _right here_," he mused as his hands lowered and he touched House's heart.

Greg took a deep sigh, his eyes following James's hands. When he felt his heart being grazed with kindness, he could feel all the empty holes that had _always _been there, start to fill up. Slowly, the compassion started to shine on all the dark corners of the broken trust and resentment.

In the car the radio started to play: _Inside Your Heaven_ By: Carrie Underwood, and the two men just embraced. But House turned his hand around, and turned off the radio, murmuring something about how American Idol was rigged and overrated. Wilson chuckled, the vibration of his chest comforting his lover, and said with urgency, "We should go,"

Both men climbed out of the car, the tie being tied around the bunny's neck by Wilson on the way out. They walked and limped into the restaurant; the sunset showing so many bright and beautiful colors through the wide glass windows. House's heart was on a string as he looked around for _them_. That string was made of Steel, and its name was…Wilson.

_Dinner…For…Four…and a Cane_

It was the Man of Steel who noticed his lover's parents first. They were already in a dark brown leather booth towards the back window, sipping their drinks, and having a one-sided conversation. James started walking towards the table, offering a smile and a confident strut. House watched Wilson march forward, reached into his pocket, popped two pills, swallowed them dry and hard, and limped there with a hopefully contented smile.

When Wilson approached the booth he was greeted by Blythe with a warm short hug and a firm handshake from John. "How did the Egg Hunt go today for you?" the oncologist asked, sitting on the side of the booth with menus still laid out. House sat down next to Wilson, hung his cane up on the coat rack, and sipped the water at the table.

"Oh. Well…we were able to get some new lingerie at Victoria's Secret for me and a new black leather briefcase for John," Blythe answered. As she said 'lingerie' her face turned slightly pink as if it was a little _too young_ for her. "What did you guys get?" she asked, wanting the discussion to flow naturally, despite the silence from her husband.

"I got the Wii and three games as the grand prize," House said smugly, looking in his dad's eyes as if to nonverbally say _I got it! Neener neener neener!_ The waiter approached the table before House could continue his list of goodies, and the black haired man asked, "Can I get our new arrivals something to drink?"

"Pepsi," Wilson announced glancing over the drink menu.

"Rootbeer," House said, fixing his eyes over his parents heads.

The waiter disappeared after taking down the drinks in his notepad.

"What else did you get on the Egg Hunt?" Blythe asked, sipping her strawberry daiquiri, her hazel eyes fixed on the odd couple across the booth. Wilson answered, finally finding something on the menu that sounded delicious to his empty stomach, and smiled, "We also got a tie for me, and stuffed bunny from the jewelry store down 2nd Street."

Jonathan finally spoke up after reading House's body language, "What the hell would two full-grown men do with a soft children's toy?" He sneered with extreme levels of criticism, those blue eyes reflecting some of the red sunrays from the window.

House had to hide his flinch, the beanie bunny now having a place in his heart as a symbol of Wilson's unflattering listening ability…not a toy. When he spoke, he shifted his leg, so just barely he touched his lover's leg, the warmth confirming him he had support, "I honestly think it is a free souvenir from this trip, and it means a lot that I got it before someone else did." He sipped his newly arrived root beer and asked his mom, "Are you enjoying New York?"

From an outsider's perspective one could tell that the military man at the table wanted to continue to talk about the rabbit and why his son likes it; but the subject was dropped and never brought up again. Blythe described, in her own descriptive and animated words and hand gestures, how much she loves New York. The two couples started comparing the sights they both had seen, and the ones they still want to. Jonathan was quiet during the most part of the dialogue, speaking up to order his meal and to say a few negative things about the city, and to ask very cruel-intended questions.

"So, James, how many people have died of cancer under you so far this year?" he asked, the blue eyes searching for Wilson's response and when he got a surprised look, his face showed a half-smile. "Just for curiousity's sake," He added as he stabbed into his N.Y. Strip steak.

Wilson felt like a sitting duck, and the way John asked the question was as if his lover's dad was the hunter. There was no warmth or concern in that set of blue eyes, only a wintry blue of solid wickedness. He wiped his mouth on his napkin, and replied with little to no emotion, "About four, but two made a full recovery," It was as if eating within breathing proximity to John had taken all the heat from the room.

Blythe started to trickle in the warmth again by reaching across the table and tapping Wilson's shoulder, "Well it's good to know cancer has spared two lives," Both House and Wilson nodded at the same time and continued to eat, House with spaghetti with shrimp, and Wilson with roasted duck. John didn't say another word to Wilson, and just shoveled in more of his meal into his teeth-clenched mouth.

The conversation continued to change topics that continued for no more than two or three exchanges. House was quiet for a little part of dinner but every time he saw Wilson smile, it would give him strength to say more and more. Blythe filled the men in on how her life was doing. She had several new hobbies. Jewelry making was one of them, and when she pointed to the wire necklace around her neck as her own making, Wilson complemented on its craftsmanship. John had no new hobbies…except maybe traveling around the world, and leaving Blythe at home.

House had to get up to use the bathroom right before after dinner coffee arrived, and he struggled because of his leg and the lack of blood flow in it. Blythe's maternal instinct kicked in the moment she saw House's pained expression. He dismissed her with a brave smile, grabbed his cane, and started to hobble to the lavatory. Now Wilson was on the hotspot.

"He really is a good man, but he tends to take all little too much of the bad stuff in. You can tell in how he acts and reacts to people and life," Blythe commented once her only child was out of hearing range, her eyes soft on the back of her son's head.

John's fifth beer caught up to him and he scoffed, "Are you kidding? He was always in trouble as a kid. He would always be watching TV, hanging out with the bad kids at school, and he would always be the mastermind behind their schemes,"

Blythe tried to keep her deep-set anger under wraps, "He did the best he could with what he had to deal with, John. We both expected too much for him to be perfect. Our son is a human, a very unique human at that, not some robot that you could've trained like your squadron in the war."

John buried his words in another long sip of his beer, his eyes now even harder with betterment. The war was the one time in his life he felt at his best, and now _SHE _insulted it again. The bottle was empty and he was staring ahead, the eyes fixed but a bit hazy.

Wilson couldn't stand to feel the room get smaller and smaller with this argument so he tried to cause more positivity at the table. He smiled and said, "He's actually been doing a great job at work. He's staying organized, keeping up with his patient quota, and actually been doing clinic duty for once," He hoped the chuckle he offered at the end of the sentence with help clear the air a bit.

The truth is, House was never out of hearing range. He purposely waited where his mom had thought he had vanished, and keenly listened in. He had a feeling that they were going to talk about him and his faults. All his life he had either been in the room to hear his parents discuss him, or just down the hall with all ears. He felt his heart get stabbed with his father's condemnation, but his heart soar with Wilson and his mother's approval. Especially Wilson's. But as he made it way back to the table, he limped with self-importance thinking, _Two out of three ain't bad._

He sat down next to his lover again and nudged him playfully, "Thanks for saving my seat for me," he said with charisma. And then, with a large push forward he faced his parents and said with every sacrifice imaginable, "I forgive you guys," his gaze shifting between both parents, "For everything,"

_A/N: Whew! That was a tough chapter to write. Especially since I was going through a lot of fixed emotions myself concerning a family reunion, and I felt a lot like House. I even eavesdropped when I went out to dinner with my boyfriend. But. Oh well. This is just a story. What do you readers think? Am I losing my touch because it's been a long time since I updated? Or am I getting better? I am all ears and I would really like to hear from you. Also, feel free to give me suggestions on the next chapter. I hope it will good as this one turned out. Have a great day! D_

_PS. I just realized two things._

_I published this story on September 11__th__ 2007. Happy One Year Anniversary of the Road to Love is Paved with Friendship, known before as House of Rocking! Thanks for the all the readers that joined me for a year, 126 comments and all! You all are keeping me from becoming a jerk like House, and keeping me doing my one true passion….WRITING!_

_Also, concerning 9/11. I am making a write-out to all the people who lost friends, loved ones, co-workers, and anyone at all to the terrorist attacks seven years ago. This chapter and how many tears I cried that day are for you guys. May God bless you all! _


	32. Forgiveness Is More Than Saying Sorry

Chapter Thirty-Two: Forgiveness…it's More Than Saying Sorry

Chapter Thirty-Two: Forgiveness…it's More Than Saying Sorry

As soon as Wilson felt his lover's average weight sit down next to him on the smallish leather booth, he could tell that there was something important about what House was about to say. He had seen that unedifying, this-is-for-your-and-my-own-good shine in the baby blues and how he carried himself several times; mostly when House had to confront a family about an evitable death.

James made this connection of how his lover was acting and mentally stepped back. He watched Greg grow wings of confidence from his straight back, and hoped that the handicapped man knew that he had the wind of support right beside him.

The first bullet of criticism rang out from the battlefield, aimed right at House's Wingspan of Hope, "_Forgive me?_ For what?!" the near-empty beer bottle rose in a way that could be considered mocking, "The fact that_ I_ picked up on your mother's _old habits_?"

Blythe's once calm eyes instantly flashed with bitterness and deep hurt, "Jonathan! That was severally inappropriate!" She glanced around nervously as if her voice was too loud for the almost vacant restaurant, and then smiled hesitantly at her pride and joy. "I haven't picked up liquor in two years, Greg. Your father," a glance at John meant as nothing more than a playful tease, "he drinks _a bit_ more. But he says it relaxes him,"

"_Damn straight_ it does!" John's drunken slur echoed louder in the quaint table more than his entire table guests' volume. "Living with _you_ causes my blood pressure to rise and we all know how much trouble you've caused to this family!" His hand swayed upwards and he motioned to the waiter to bring another bottle.

House watched all this with out-of-character listening ability and calmness. Yes, it hurt like hell to see his father bad-mouth his mother right in front of him, the only person in _his whole life_ who never stopped loving him. And most defiantly, his dad was being a complete and utter _jack-ass_. His innocence flapped with increasing muster when the waiter came back with his dad's alcohol. He said, with firmness, "Please take this away, my father has a pre-existing heart condition and_ I_ don't want him to damage the _one thing_ that keeps him here,"

The young waiter's naïve eyes glanced at the oldest person at his booth. He saw the pupils dilated, the redness forming on the cheeks and neck, and the noticeable swaying of the body, and he realized he had made a stupid human error. "I am _so_ sorry. I didn'tknow. I just thought he needed something to drink and I--"

A small gust of wind arrived to give the Angel a lift, the oncologist with unwavering kindness, "Don't worry about it. Just be _more careful_ on how many bottles you serve to a single person, and remind _all_ people of its dangers to the body,"

The waiter couldn't believe that these two fully-grown men, the type of customers that normally would've complained straight to management, handled the situation with calmness and assertiveness. He nodded like a student getting advice from their suddenly favorite teacher, "Thank you, and I will, sir. Your coffee will be here soon, we have been having some trouble in the kitchen,"

"Its no trouble," Blythe stated as easy as breathing, feeding off the sudden tranquility from the other side of the booth, and not the tension to her right. "Come when you can. We aren't going anywhere, anytime soon."

The waiter nodded and left, smiling to himself as he went, feeling better that he might have saved someone's life by _not_ serving something.

Blythe had to ask, as she sipped her water, "Forgiveness? What _did_ you mean, Greg?" Her maternal eyes searching for clues on her son's reasoning but all she saw was a man who had a lot to say and was sure of himself enough to say it.

The room got incredibly tight all of the sudden. House looked for a mille-second lifetime at each parent and then to his lap where he took a deep breath. He also felt the presence of Wilson's cologne in his nostrils and the affection of Wilson from the heat of his body next to him. The wings took a large flap forward against the wind of his parent's confused and frigid eye contact and he began to express himself

"My whole life…it's always been about making you _both _proud and bringing our family _closer together_. When I was a kid I would read chapter books so you would realize how _bright_ I was, and when you didn't notice, I would start to read more. When I found out that you liked sports, Dad, I would obsess with them to show that I wanted to share something _other than discipline_ with you. Mom, when I put together that cartoons were the one thing that could always make you smile, I taught myself the art of cartooning and made you all those comic strips _just so I could see you smile again_. But it's been _so…damn…hard_…to please you."

"Get to the point--"

"Ssshhhh John! He _has_ a point. Go on,"

"Here's your coffee. Black with sugar for you, sir. Sugar, and honey for the sweet lady. Straight black for the older gentlemen. And milk and sugar for you. Enjoy!"

Deep breath here, getting back into the rhythm of his rant he softened his eye contact after a sip of his regular drink. "Mom," he said with his eyes shining all of his understanding, hope, and pity that have been boiling inside him like a tin can on a stove of continual heat.

"I understand what it is liked to be picked on. I was always teased in school for being odd, for being smart, for saying what had to be said but no one admitted. I know it can be hard to be yourself, especially when it seems that everyone you are connected to is arrogant and bitter towards what makes you unique."

Blythe House's hazel eyes shone with tears and pride that her only link to sanity in this cruel, heartless world, had said something so _heartfelt_. She wanted to reach out and hug him, and stroke his hair like she used to when he would do the right thing regardless of the circumstances. But before she could stand up to hug the assuredness that she had done a good job raising something, the raincloud of her life rumbled.

"Cut the ass-kissing philosophical shit! If everyone was themselves this already fucked-up world would be in even more chaos. This world needs order and I gave it to you in the way you needed it most, you little brat." Jonathan's voice rang in House's ears, and it was a painful ringing, almost as if it was the call to just rip off his wings and fall back to earth and to fall back into reality.

The pain in his leg was helping with that theory. But what he said next proved what his mom would say all along, _It's okay to have your head in the clouds as long as you can see the pain within people and help them see the good in living._

. "Dad. Did you ever think that Mom wouldn't have cheated on you if you had just shown her a little respect for all that she did for us? Did you ever think "your little soldier" just wanted people to be happy without the need to hurt another living soul? And. Did it ever occur to you that to this day, I hate you for mistreating mom even after she quit her incorrect ways, and continues to get stepped on by your egotistical Army boots?" These words came out ruthlessly and angrily as if they were the first boils over from a long-awaited cooked can.

John felt his flaming face pale for a moment before he felt defensive anger rise in his chest, like his blood pressure, it reacted with honest words said against him. "You are out of line, Gregory! I stayed married to your mom so her dependent ass didn't have to live on its own, and so you would learn how to _not be like her_!"

House felt more angry with each word his dad bellowed and the next time he made eye contact with him, he glared harshly right through his dad's giant ego. "Me? Out of line? You've always been a dick to her and to me. Nothing was good enough! Even when I became a doctor, all I heard from you was "Why didn't he become a lawyer because he's full of shit as it is?"

Wilson got up from the table, pulling out his cell phone and putting it to his ear. This was his way of walking away from something that he wanted to get involved in but felt he didn't have the words to say. "Lisa? Hi. What's going on?" He also locked eyes with Blythe and made a gesture with his brown eyes. It was that she could follow him if she chose to. She shook her head gently so only he could see, and he nodded and walked away. But like his lover he didn't go out of hearing range. James went just far enough away that the drunken army man couldn't see him anymore.

"If you are so bloody-ass smart, Mr. Wise Guy, tell me more about how much of a dick I am. I want to hear it and reinforce it with my own. Because I am still bigger than you Greg," Jonathan hissed with a hint of innocence like a bully put in the principal's office but he knew how to play the game without getting convicted.

Greg noticed his Man of Steel leave the booth, but his heightened Flight-or-Flight instincts saw Wilson a booth away behind his dad's head. The man of his dreams was giving him a thumb's up and a large smile of encouragement. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, he continued, feeling hope for standing on his own two feet.

"Dad?"

"Yes, the insult to mankind for having my genes?"

House felt the pain of these words but he was bubbling out his heart. And boy, did it feel good. Scary, but fantastic. Those blue eyes he was staring into couldn't be more frozen. "You suffocated me to the point that I didn't know what I liked, and if I found out, it wasn't "appropriate" for a growing man. I started making more female friends then male and you expected me to date all of them. Or find them all appealing. When in reality…I just liked who they were, not what they wore, or what car their parents drove, or even what neighborhood they lived in. Or I liked their personality, and not what was underneath their clothes, big or small, dark or light."

Blythe nodded while her son was saying these things, because those were the things she always hoped he would pick up on by living with her. It's the heart that matters, not what the outside appearance suggests. That is why, when her husband was out of town, she would take House to protests for equal rights of people, and helped him make many different kinds of friends. Did his dad always approve? No. He didn't always find out.

Jonathan was stubborn to the core, but at least the drunken buzz was wearing off slightly, and with it, the explosive reactive temper. He was still simmering when he objected, "I wanted you to see what the dating field was like before you just jumped into marriage like I was expected to, and did because I had to. And. I wanted your lazy ass to actually be taken care of by a wealthy family because it didn't look like you knew how to take care of yourself,"

"I realize. But I am content with what I had in collage. Money doesn't make a person truly happy. Friendship does and that is all you need to truly survive." With that, House signed the check, finished his coffee, and stood up. "Dad. I just want you to know I am glad you did the best you could for me…but I am _nothing_ like you. I want you to accept that."

For the first time in perhaps the life of his only child, Jonathan was the one looking up to House. Literally and figuratively. His eyes were glancing upwards into House's and he felt strangely small in comparison to House's determination and serenity. It was an odd feeling for a man who normally looked down on people and commanded them from that angle, but he didn't try to start a fight. He had no energy left to do that. His son's words were more mentally draining than boot camp had seemed.

Greg turned to his mother, who was tearing up with pride in her son. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a pink thorn-less rose, one he bought at the front of the restaurant on his "bathroom break", and gave it to her. "Mom. You've never had thorns of mistakes…only the blooming of beauty and hope. Call me sometime if you need to talk,"

She stood up faster than her old bones could normally, scooted out of the booth, and hugged him tight. "I will. And thanks for everything today, sweetie. I will always love you. No matter what choices you make. Or wherever this life takes you." The hug was warm, tight, and exactly what House needed after spilling his guts and feelings for his parents to see. He squeezed her back, his eyes closing, and his memory transporting him to when he was little and she would hug him after a troublesome day. He was almost at peace. He needed one more thing.

"Goodbye and I won't wait so long to get together with you guys again,"

"Bye, Greg. I love you." There was a sob in her voice, but a smile on her face.

"I love you too, Mom" House's voice said as it was majestically fading towards the exit. He felt no remorse and no stabbing when his dad was silent at his leave. It was better than his dad's usual icy arrow to his heart with a last word of cruelness. He met Wilson at the door, where he was waiting for him.

They walked to the car, in a moment of silence for the bravery that House had shown against his internal and external demons. When they climbed in the car they locked the door, and without worrying if people saw them in the post-sunset light, Greg kissed his inspiration.

"You did such a fantastic job! I am so proud of you that you were able to get that out and in the open and in such a calm way. How do you feel?" James's big brother sounding voice sang out in the vehicle. He felt as if his lover had just won an award for being a positive role model and the whole world deserved to know about it.

"I feel tired. Can we go to the hotel and sleep on it?" Greg announced, his wings of wisdom coming down for a smooth landing, and where it was a nice place to land. A peaceful area where he knew he could finally, after almost fifty long years, breathe easily. House buckled his seat belt securing him to Earth, reached over, grabbed the bunny with the tie on it, and used it as a pillow against the window. By the time Wilson had pulled up into the hotel's parking garage, his lover was fast asleep.

_A/N: What do you guys think? I know for a fact that House was out-of-character. And if you believe it as well, feel free to tell me. I want your advice and comments. However, I am not changing the content of this chapter (except for some spelling errors). _

_This chapter was written to how I feel with my parents. I feel like House who had very different and very…well…weird parents. So as I was writing this I was having my words speak through House. Please give me feedback to how I did it. In my eyes…House is a deeply opinioned angel that grew up with two devils (but the way I described his mother is how I wanted my mom to always be). _

_So…yeah…House is my puppet! But a puppet that I allowed to become a real boy through personal strength. He has no strings attached to his heart anymore. Okay…long Author Note is over now. Have a great day and remember "You can't make a rainbow with only one type of Hugh." ()_


	33. Why Does Spring Break Always Have Rain

Chapter Thirty-Three: Why Does Spring Break Always Have Rain

Chapter Thirty-Three: Why Does Spring Break Always Have Rain?

_A/N: In case any of you guys didn't already know….the actor who plays Dr. House (Hugh Laurie) also plays Fredrick Little in the Stuart Little live action films. I completely freaked out when I watched those movies after falling in love with House. His alter ego looks like House had a dorky little brother and he still has Blythe knit his sweaters. ._

After their vacation full of victory, House and Wilson had to come back to workable reality. They woke up by alarm clock, and got everything that they brought and won packed up. House instead of being his normally happy-morning person self (insert sarcasm here) was actually cooperative waking up.

Greg wanted to get out of the crowded, busy smog of the city, and back to the problem-clearing puzzlement of solving cases. James wanted to go back to busy work, but he would miss all the time with House that he had crammed into the last few days.

As they both climbed onto the motorcycle, they noticed that there was sprinkling of raindrops falling down on them. Wilson squinted his brown eyes through the helmet, and pouted slightly, "Why do all spring breaks have a little rain in them?"

House turned his head over his leather-jacketed shoulder and said shrugging, "Because on every life, a little rain must fall."

Wilson wasn't surprised, House always had philosophical quotes up his sleeve, even if he wasn't wearing any, and he allowed his eyes to relax. He had to match his lover's quote with one remembered from watching children's movies with the cancer kids. "But remember what Stuart Little said, '_Every_ cloud has a _silver_ lining'. It's true isn't it?"

Greg looked up at the sky, noticing the darkest rainiest raincloud, and the sparkles of the refection of optimism shining through behind it. "I guess you're right. But. Don't make me watch that movie again. It creeps me out a little bit. The father looks too…well…_weird_,"

What Wilson wanted to say but couldn't because of the deafening rumble of the motorcycle's engine was _Yeah. He may be creepy, but he has your eyes. _Not that it mattered if he was able to say it. House knew his seeing organs were the reflection of his youth in his heart, and that he would always be of an immature soul. Baby blues forever!

It was almost Mother's Day, and he had spoken to his mother at least once a week since their fateful meeting at the hotel. She seemed to be doing better, and his dad even muttered a few words every now and then. House didn't expect the man who had been frozen for almost 50 years to just unfreeze, and it did good to just know they were both alive and well.

House had bought himself a new TV for his office. On this blooming sunny morning he was waiting for his team to come back from the lab with test results. Cuddy still hadn't found out about the Wii in the workplace because he had been able to be sneaky about it.

On one side of the whiteboard with wheels he had a diagnosis written in marker, and right behind it on the wall, a perfect size plasma TV and Wii console. Whenever Cuddy would walk by in her clakkety-clack heels, House would turn off the Wii, and turn push the board with his cane, pretending to be working. Some case-free days he even hosted video game tournaments with the other doctors. Wilson usually came by on these afternoons, and occasionally won. But House had better hand-eye-relaxes most the time.

Playing the waiting game while also perfecting his video game skills solo this afternoon, House was trying to figure out his latest case. With every stroke of the plastic guitar he would try and eliminate the causes of her illness. Due to the complexity of both the inside of his mind and the dilemma on screen, he was sidetracked. Greg turned off the audio-visual distraction and pulled the board towards him with his walking stick.

The main man had already sent the team to the lab to run some tests, and he was nowhere closer to clearing the board of burnt-out answers. His ears normally picking up every sound were turned off for concentration; two people came into his office without him noticing. One was a pair of heels the other was a pair of very shiny black shoes. Wilson was the first to speak up, and he did so in the calmest voice he could without showing the tears he was feeling leak into his voice, "House. Your father…he just died…"

_Author's Note:_

_I find it extremely ironic that the week I publish my chapter on House's parents onto fanfiction is also the week I find out that House's dad dies. I was completely baffled (and also enormously excited that the man that hurt House is DEAD) that my sense of timing is what it is. It scares me how that happened._

_So. Yes. Dismiss the fact that when House's dad dies in the show House has a new team and some years have passed. I am trying to keep this story fresh and in line (somewhat) to how the show is headed. My next chapter will have a lot of thought in terms of the funeral and how House handles the death of his dad on the show. Feel free to give me your opinions to how it should happen based on how the show made you fee, or what you want to see in this story.. I love your feedback! _


	34. On the Road To Grief

Chapter Thirty-Four: On the Road…to Grief

_Author's Note: Oh…my…Gosh…I just watched the episode when House's dad dies for the second time and I cried this time. I mean, the first time I was the fangirl that is sitting before you, clapping and squealing at every exchange between House and Wilson. It was such a powerfully (implied, but not said) written script of how they feel about each other. I loved every second of it…but my TV didn't record the ending. All I got was the fact that House's dad wasn't his "dad". Oops. Sorry if I disappointed any hardcore fans out there, but I am going to throw that in this chapter._

The dialogue from Wilson didn't register for a minute, but once they did, House clenched up his shoulders. Cuddy's voice actually did have tears in it when she said, "If there is _anything_ I can do, I will be here for you." The fatherless man didn't move for several minutes, his tense back was still facing the two worried faces.

Cuddy looked to Wilson, both their cheerless expressions reflecting in their misty eyes, and they exchanged nonverbally that House needs to think about it. Alone. Lisa turned around and the sound of her heels echoed as she left the room, the sound in rhythm with the tears drops falling down from her face. Wilson knew better, Vulnerable House alone is never a good thing.

Wilson put a hand on House's rock-solid shoulder. The oncologist felt undoubtedly bad that he didn't know what to do, or say, next. Greg moved as fast as an expert fly swatter and reached up and grabbed Wilson's hand and held it tight. He made sure the only bodily contact was hidden from passers-by, but besides James he didn't need anyone else in the world.

James took this as a good sign but he was surprised that House was the one with warm hands. Before he could open his frowned mouth, Greg asked in a small voice. "How did he die?"

The answer came from behind him in a swallowed, sad tone, "Liver problems combined with old age…I am _so_ sorry, Greg. I wish you could've gotten to know how much he truly loved--"

"_Serves him right_. The bastard could have lived another _five or ten_ years if he _hadn't_ picked up the bottle." House's voice was bitter now, but the volume hadn't changed. His blue tunnel-vision eyes were focusing on the writing on his whiteboard, the words "Liver failure" glowing at him as if the letters were lit up with their own lightbulb.

Wilson swallowed hard and squeezed House's hand in reassurance. He felt wordless and worthless again. Comforting a patient was one thing, because normally they aren't attached to his heart. But comforting House's crumbling brick of a heart…that was much harder. The words came to him, hopefully smooth like cement. "Your mom wants you to go to the funeral. It is in Kentucky."

A sigh, but the grip loosened, and House stood shakily to his feet. "_Let's go_." He still hadn't looked into his lover's eyes, but he grabbed his jacket off the back of his leather chair. He pulled it on and slowly turned to face James, and noticed him looking away, in the direction of the sun streaming into the room.

Wilson noticed the Rabbit that they had received for Easter resting on top of the whiteboard, the tie still around its neck. The sunlight was shining on it, making all the bristles of its fabric echo the light. With shaking hands he lifted it off its resting spot, the softness and the warmness of the artificial fur comforting him like a hug for his cold hands.

When he felt House's eyes on him, he tried to hide the tears in his eyes with a comical grin. "Do you need to talk about it?" He asked raising the bunny in the air making its ears flop up and down.

House limped over to Wilson, tilted his head, and questioned the moisture on his friend's face, "Why are _you_ the one crying?" He took a few hobbled steps forward so he was examining Wilson's facial expression. To House he looked like a clown that was having a bad day; the true colors of how he was feeling washing away through the false make-up of joyfulness.

James's attempt on being strong for House collapsed with the lowering of the beanie from shoulder level. "I…I guess I just want you to know that he _did_ love you, even though he did do a lot of unspeakable things. If he didn't love you and your mom, even _just a little bit_…he would've left your mom a long time ago,"

Grabbing a few tissues from the glass diagnosis table, Greg handed them to James. As his lover practiced trumpet with his nose, House looked away outside the office glass wall, through the blinds. He noticed the team approaching the door slowly, as if the results didn't give any significant results. "_James_," he said in a strangely calm voice for someone who had just lost a father, "The way I see it, and have analyzed it, that man wasn't my real father. I'm okay,"

Wilson wiped his eyes with a new Kleenex and nodded, biting his lip. His normally brown wide eyes were red and bloodshot and his nose was sniffling. It was as if he had allergies, and he wasn't crying. In fact, that is exactly how House covered for him when the team arrived inside the room.

House was standing tall near the door and he interrupted Cameron before she could ask what was wrong with Wilson, "He forgot to take his Claratin this morning. Novelist lady has something wrong with her heart, so I suggest doing an MRI on it before we have to schedule two funerals."

Foreman looked puzzled and asked, "_Two_ funerals? Who else died?"

The Rabbit made its way back to where it was originally placed, and Wilson spoke the unknown truth to the team, "House's father died. We are on the way to the funeral."

Cameron spoke up this time, "Your dad…_died_?" Her blue eyes were wide with concern and worry over a heart that she thought was breaking with pain and angst. She was looking at House. Unfortunately her eye contact was with the wrong man.

"I'm _fine_. He had liver problems. And well…the damned soul has finally gone back to where he belongs." House stated as if it was a fact out of a book he was currently reading. He felt nothing towards the news, besides he wanted to go the funeral and get out of the room.

Chase looked at House and hoped that his boss realized that having a father die is supposed to be a painful process. But first he had to find out what House's dad did to him in the first place. Why else would House say he's grateful his dad is dead? "What _did_ he do to you, House?"

Claustrophobic and annoyed with every passing wasted second; House put his hand on the office door. "Everything and nothing," he said and pushed his way through. He limped away without taking anymore questions. He hated having people feeling sorry for him, especially when he wasn't feeling bad at all.

The hallway helped him breathe easier and as he saw Wilson out of the corner of his vision, he felt as if he could carry his own weight. And stand up for what caused so much anguish over the years. Only this time, standing up for what mattered would be easier. This time he wouldn't have to worry about staring into the army man's eyes.

The drive went semi-slowly and semi-quickly, depending on what our boys were doing, and who was driving. For the first shift, Wilson offered to drive, but House stopped him. "Your eyes don't come with windshield wipers. I'll drive until the rain settles." James chuckled slightly, embarrassed to still be the one with emotions, but got in the passenger seat just the same.

The weather was a mix of rain and sunshine. Every so often when they were driving a little sprinkle of rain would fall, and then miles would pass and the sun would come out again. Wilson had a question in his throat, and he felt if he didn't ask now, more tears would come. "Greg?" he inquired, "What did you mean, 'the way you analyzed it, that man isn't my real father?'"

House looked both ways and then took an exit off the highway. He exhaled, glancing at the open sky full of overcast clouds, the wide open atmosphere matching the couple's conflicting emotions. He began to talk, Wilson watching House for signs of grief and all he saw was neutrality.

"When I was twelve, I discovered that my dad had different genes than me. I have a distinct red birthmark on my scalp; just like one on a specific friend of the family I have known my whole life. My dad's toe alignment is different than mine. As I said, I was a bright kid, and my mother never admitted to it. My father never chose to learn about it, and if he did, he kept quiet about it. Just like he has been most of my life. The way I see it, I inherited being a bastard from dealing with him, not because I am his son."

Wilson was in silence, and even though he didn't want to interrupt the driver's concentration, he really wanted to reach over and hug House. But he couldn't, and he took the seat belt as a sign that he should hold himself back.

Greg had been driving for a few hours and he pulled into a rest stop. He unclicked his seatbelt and looked at Wilson, "You hungry?" he asked, a face full of calm and a voice full of obvious hunger. The other man nodded and smiled back, understanding of House's tranquility on his face instead of tears.

Climbing back into the car after a quick, early lunch of hot dogs and fries, the couple switched driver and passenger. House sat down, threw his cane in the backseat, and stretched out his legs and arms. After getting gas in his car, Wilson climbed in the driver's seat and started the car. In unison they clicked their seat belts, and then James pulled onto the main road again.

House was looking out the window, noticing a rainbow in the sky and a strange question came over him, and it was his turn to ask the awkward question. But he had to know, and the question had never occurred to the diagnostician until now. "James? Have you always had feelings for men?"

Wilson noticed the rainbow and rationalized that the nature's miracle was the reason the question had come up. He thought about his words before he answered, because he defiantly didn't want to offend anyone that he knew or otherwise. "Yes and no. When I was a teenager I would find certain guys somewhat attractive, usually the ones that took really good care of themselves and you could tell that they did. But. I just shrugged it to the side, thinking that my hormones were just crooked and that I didn't really know what love was. Since then it's almost as if I've always had guys in the back corner of my mind. Why do you ask, Greg?"

House shrugged and put a fingernail to his mouth, slightly nervous even though he had been with his lover for eight months now. He had to say it, he wanted to say it, and when he opened his mouth, he felt air leave the car, "I've loved you since the moment we met."

A flashback later, Wilson nodded and commented on the memory, "I guess what they say in junior high is right." He turned onto the exit that would take them out of New York State. When Wilson saw the blue eyes crinkle in confusion, he added, "When a guy picks on you, he must _really_ like you." House smirked, the warm comfort of being by Wilson returning and the air easier to breathe. Rolling down the window, it also could be that they were far enough away from a populated city that they could breathe in natural air. Allergies? Pfft. Nothing compares to the freshness of nature. Besides, both of them took their allergy medication that morning.

House got bored so he pulled out his iPod and rebooted it, knowing that the Shuffle God would find the perfect song to lighten his boredom. Before he could put his earbuds in his ears, Wilson cleared his throat.

"What's up?" House asked, studying to see if Wilson needed the water that was in the cup holder. He noticed Wilson's concentration to avoid the car next to them.

"In my glovebox I have a music device adapter. Take it out and plug your iPod into the radio. We can listen to your music together. It will pass the time to be with something that we can talk about."

To this House followed the directions and the first song that came on was _She's My Ride Home_ By: Blue October. He put it on shuffle, and hid the mp3 device on the dashboard. After House gave his own set of directions the game of Name that Tune on House's iPod was born.

"Take it easy on me, Greg. It's been awhile since I've listened to modern music." James assumed as he tried to determine who was singing the song, his eyebrows burrowing together in confusion.

House smirked, obviously he knew who the artist was, but he let it slide without announcing it. Before the subsequent song started he said, "Don't worry. There are 9,876 songs on here. You should know at least half of them." He got a disbelieving look in return, and then the song started.

"Dancing Queen ABBA!" Wilson yelped out, the fact that he recognized a song made him feel extremely proud of himself. Now that he was on a slightly less crowded road, he loosened up and grooved his shoulders to the beat of the Swedish pop band. House laughed at the bright innocent grin on his lover's face, "I know I picked the right ring tone for you, Jimmy."

House was driving by the time they got to the funeral home, and the score was 185 songs to Wilson's 130 (House had to keep score, and he did so with a notepad he also found in the glove department). They had also made another pit stop where Wilson bought House a tie for the funeral. As they approached the funeral home they also finished their conversation.

"His last words to me, the ones last week, 'Enjoy your evening," Greg noted as he parked on the edge of the street. They got out of the car and walked towards the crowd of people in black on their way inside. As he looked at Wilson, who was straightening his tie, he continued, "Don't you think it's ironic that he said that to me, and then here we are, in the evening, about to go to his funeral?"

_A/N: Hey everyone! I know I promised this chapter would have the funeral in it, but I really didn't feel up for setting the mood for the gloomy. I am having one of those happy, sunshine days, and writing gloomy is hard to do. _

_However, did anyone else cry when they watched the funeral on last week's episode? I need some advice to how I should write the funeral scene, and what do you think House should say for his little speech for his "dad"._

_If I don't get anything, I will just type up what he said on the show. Have a great day guys! Thanks for reading and/or commenting and/or favouriting my story. It makes me feel good to see that!_


	35. The Final Link in the Circle of Life

Chapter Thirty-Five: The Final Link in the Circle of Life

Chapter Thirty-Five: The Final Link in the Circle of Life

Wilson did nod at the irony of the father figure's final words to "his only son", but he hoped House wouldn't take them to heart. But it seemed like House hadn't taken anything to heart lately, not a single defying emotion was on the rough middle-aged face. The blue straight-forward eyes didn't show distantness as they usually did when House was in deep thought, his eyebrow line wasn't burrowed in worry or his jaw set in grit. He watched his friend limp forward with direct, strong masculine shoulders, and his better leg leading the bad one.

If anything, Wilson was troubled that House hadn't shown _any_ feeling towards the news of a loved one dying_. But if there was no love between them,_ he rationalized, _than it is just another person biting the dust to him. _He followed his indifferent friend inside where James saw several stiff-shouldered, straight-faced men in uniform and a cluster of about five women in a half-circle near the entrance.

House had picked a red rose off the hedge near the funeral parlor's doorway and picked off all the thorns on his way in. In a childish wave of not caring; he flicked the thorns in the direction of a few of his dad's comrades; and smirked when one of the men flinched on contact. But as he hobbled towards the bunch of women he became stone-faced again, because he knew he had to be serious. This was a funeral for a well-respected bastard after all.

"Gregory!" The young_ish_ lady at the mouth of the half-circle cried out almost too loudly, and from the sound of her voice she was ecstatic to see him. "Mom," he alleged, limping through the crowd of the gray-haired women in black dresses. They stepped aside for him, a few whispering to themselves and pointing to his cane and limping leg.

"How are you, Mrs. House?" James arrived right behind House, a little surprised to see another member of the House family not in any sign of emotional distress. Blythe had done her hair with youthful, free-flowing golden-haired waves, and her make-up looked like it had been applied with the intentions of going to a formal, _happy_ occasion.

The "stolen" flower that she had received from her son was put behind her ear, the blooming blossom making her look childish than her barely visible wrinkles and son's age suggested. She was wearing a slimming knee-length black skirt, and black shoes. As if to symbolize a new beginning, or maybe just to spite her deceased spouse, she also wore a tie-dye rubber bracelet around her thin wrist. When she corrected Wilson, her voice had no grief, and she waved him aside, "Please James. We've been through this. You may call me Blythe."

"Sorry. How are you, Blythe?" James asked, wishfully hoping that she would break down on him, but from the looks of things, she actually looked in high spirits. She reached out and hugged the man who felt no more part of the family than his relations with House. He was surprised at her vigor of the hug and when she pulled away, he made a mental note to why House holds on so tight some nights. He got his physical strength from his mother. Either that, or the buried need of comfort from a male from the lack of fatherly attention.

"I am doing well, within reason. It feels like I am a recovering addict." she replied with a wry smile at her son, who shrugged and popped a pill, and then she sighed and shrugged for her own record, "I am learning how to live without the thing that poisoned me for almost fifty years."

Gregory House was looking around the room, taking it all in, as if making a memory film for himself to cherish whenever the disturbing memories of his father came into his subconscious. He recognized a few of the women from the group hanging around his mother. Some of them had baby-sat him when his mother had to work, and the years hadn't done much to their lemon-sucking lips and rigid, uptight body structure. A few he also recalled going to marches with his mother, and these were the ones who smiled warmly when they saw him. He looked away before he felt obligated to smile back.

"You mean to tell me that you are not down _at all_ that your husband is well…_gone_? I would be mortified, _even if_ the man mistreated me." Wilson asked in a low voice, his thick brown eyebrow line lowered in complete disbelief. He had treated patient's wives who completely despised their husbands, but if they got the news that their husband was dying of cancer they would automatically be saddened.

Blythe's face quickly and suddenly turned serious, as if the light-switch keeping her sunny disposition on had been flicked off. Her face made her look her twice age, and more stern. She lowered her shoulders so her voice wouldn't travel to the army men near her and said under her breath in a grave, firm tone, "I think the reason I am so happy is I don't have a reason to be put down anymore. For the first time in my adult life, I can make my own decisions _for me_, and not set myself to the standards of anyone else. It's the beginning of the rest of my life, and I am not going to waste it worshipping some glory-chaser."

Her features lifted again when she saw her son stare off into space a affectionate smile crept across her face, the golden evening light through the window making her whole face shine with an amber glow. "Greg, would you stop sucking in the all the long-awaited happiness of this momentous occasion and do me a favor?"

House's observing eyes had fallen on the casket, an unnerving chill running down his spine, but his mother's voice brought him back to the present. "What?" he asked, feeling like a kid who had been asked to do homework, but much rather finish the video game level he was currently on.

Blythe noticed her son's disturbed, uneasy body language, but tried to sound as reasonable as she possibly could, "Would you _please_ give your father's eulogy?"

_Why should I? I hardly knew the bastard, and the man I __did__ know I hated to live with. _House's mind raced, the dark cloud falling thickly over him, making him feel smothered again, just as he was in his office earlier that morning. Wilson noticed his lover clench up, and the worry wrinkles form on his forehead for the first time that day. He removed his hand from his pants pocket, and rested it on House's shoulder. He did it ever so lightly, so House wouldn't worry about being shown affection among the public. What surprised James was Greg actually leaned into the comfort, like a cat leaning into a back rub.

"It would mean the world to me if you did, Greg," Blythe murmured, finally being able to make her honey colored eyes collide with the wavering blue ones. Taking another deep nasal breath and gripping onto his cane harder, House eventually looked away to say sharply, "Fine. Don't expect me to win any awards for best script though."

House swallowed hard and stole a quick glance with his zoomed in eyes to Wilson. His lover was giving a half-smile, half supporting him through this and half sympathetic to the event, and behind those cavernous chocolate eyes was the want to comfort House. Greg took that as his strong point as he took the steps forward to the pews.

The elderly woman adjusted the rose behind her ear, and thanked her son in a soft voice. He didn't respond; he just took another half-hearted step after the other. Then she turned to Wilson, gave him a copy of the program, and breathed out thankfully as they followed, "Thank God you are here, James. He seems to really be drawn to your commitment to compassion for others. He never got it from his father as a child."

James took steps in time with Blythe, and shrugged dismissively, "He tells me sometimes that it's the thing that gets him through long sleepless nights." He wasn't worried about how Blythe would take that comment. He had known first-hand over the phone before the two doctors had become involved that she was a very accepting person.

Blythe House used to call Wilson after getting her son's answering machine for a "House Update" and he would be as honest as allowed to fill her in. Some things were to best to be hidden however. _It's best not to shock her to death by saying anything too rash in one sitting._ Wilson thought as he sat by a rigid House.

The handicapped man's sapphire eyes were staring ahead, right above the open casket; the soul behind the eyes feeling emotionless no longer. House felt like an empty latex balloon when he walked into the funeral parlor, ready to be filled up with air, and then released obnoxiously for comic relief. But now, seeing the pale, blank expression on the dead man's face, he felt different. Now Greg felt like that same balloon was filling up with ice-cold water and put inside a subzero, cramped freezer. Soon, he would crack.

_Do my metaphors make sense? Or, do they seem to fit the mood of the story?_

_I am working on a "Metaphor and Mood" unit in my English class and I was wondering if my examples thus far in this story are well done or not…_

While House was completely lost in his thoughts, he blocked out everything around him. Not even the soft pat on his back from Wilson brought him out of his trance. When his mother got up, dusted off her dress, and walked up to the podium next to the coffin, he didn't even bother giving her the respect of listening.

_She's always loved the attention the stage gave her. Just let her act and convince these idiots that he was a good man, while you try to think._ House's mind told itself, as he sat in the pew, quivering slightly. He wasn't chilly necessarily; he just wasn't a big fan of giving speeches to impress the men who were bigger than him. Or men who were trained specifically for combat. Every time he would try to talk to his father alone in civilized fashion he would get the same feeling over him.

Wilson was watching Blythe with the utmost respect and a slight smile on his face. He couldn't help it, she was telling some pretty quirky things John would do when he was alive. For one, he used to wake up at 2 A.M. and cook large, delicious breakfasts and then fall asleep at the table before even getting to eat it. Sometimes with the mug of coffee still in his hand.

And the way that Blythe explained it made it seem that Jonathan House was a decent family man, and she loved and missed him dearly. Wilson knew she was speaking the truth, but she was also over exaggerating his good times within the House household. From spending time and talking with House, James knew there was a lot she wasn't saying. But for the sake of looking on the bright side of the death, Blythe brought the light into the room.

"And now, my, I mean, _our _son Gregory would like to say a few words on behalf of his father." The happy-faced, tearful-eyed woman said as she stepped away from the podium. She lingered there for a while, watching the audience, and wiping away artificial tears. Her son rose shakily to his feet, his eyes scanning the room as if checking for someone to jump out and yell, _"Greg has a cane? What the hell did he do? That boy's always been careless towards anyone but himself."_ But no one did. And after a quick hug from his mom; House allowed himself to stride right behind the platform.

As he looked up at the smallish crowd he suddenly felt everyone's judgmental eyes on him. Greg felt like he was back in elementary school during "Career Day" and he had to give a speech all about an absentee father. The memories of his father also seemed to swarm around him, constricting his airway like a large and heavy anaconda snake. But then his diverting eyes fell on Wilson and his mother, and the weight slowly faded as if the snake around him was getting eaten my something bigger. They were both looking up at him, with silent _You can do this _shining in both their eye contact and curling lips. _Courage is a smile from someone you love and a mental pat on the back the way through. _House thought before he took a deep, long breath and began.

"My father was a complicated man who enjoyed, well, different things on different days. One day, he would tell me to plant the biggest tree we could afford in the back yard below his bedroom. The next he would have me dig it up and move it, because he claimed he needed more privacy. He was a private man, who didn't like to communicate unless it was something to be improved upon. I don't recall getting any praise from him, unless it had come from my mother's mouth first.

"I do remember once, I hadn't done the dishes correctly. He got mad and broke the one with the most food left on it. I had to fix the bowl, and then eat hot soup from it while it was sitting on my lap. Everything he taught me had a lesson behind it, and some unique way of me learning it.

I can't say I didn't look up to my father for his intelligence, but I didn't respect him. Despite the fact he always wanted me to. I find it hard to respect a man who didn't even respect his wife, or people as humans who make mistakes.

I never had a positive relationship with him, so I think that the flowers he's being buried under will show him the power of deeply rooted growth. I grew up the way I did because he never took the moment's care to notice of what was unique to me. Now that he's dead, I can continue to grow to make myself and my mom happy.

However, just like the coffin lid that is about to cover him, there has always been an unbreakable wall between the two of us. I wanted for us to get along and to tear down whatever he found unfitting about me, but he keep adding more layers of broken trust in front of himself. He was blind to the fact I cared about him, just like his dead ears can't even hear me know. In that way I am grateful. But you can call what he did was defensive mechanism, I call it selfish greed.

So, thanks for coming here today and shedding tears for this man. In the battles he fought I know he deserved your sympathy. But in the lives he left behind he has given more freedom than you'll ever know."

House took another deep breath, hoping that the words he said came out right, and he said them clearly enough that everyone would understand how he felt. As he hobbled to the casket, and got one last look at the man inside, he noticed the several facial expressions in response to his eulogy.

The comrades of his dad's army regime remained serious in facial expression, but their eyes reflected the truth of House's words, as if they felt they went through the same thing with their commander. Family members, on John's side that were still alive, gave their crippled non-family member an icy stare as if the truth was too much to bear, or not the truth at all.

But those people didn't matter. None of them did. All that mattered to Greg was when he turned around and started on his way back to the pews was the look on his "Only True Family's" faces. Blythe's face showed real tears this time, the years of silently being pushed around by John and being uplifted by her son melting away.

Wilson's reflected the final beams of sunset, a whole spectrum of oranges, yellows, and some reds, and the biggest beam of pride his lips and cheeks could naturally muster. House had just saved himself, and his mother for that matter, from all the ghosts of memories that Jonathan could've left behind. And Wilson was proud of him.

_Author's Note:_

_And so. The funeral. I hate death, I really do, but I know it is a natural part of life. I just also do not support abuse in any way shape or form, and the fact that House was "abused early in life" was hard for me to cover up cleverly in this chapter. (Especially since I have no idea what John actually did to House, nor do I EVER intend on finding out.) _

_Nonetheless, that was hard to write, especially in character, but I still get joy out writing it. Speaking of "Joy" what did all you Americans think that saw the episode last night? Is Cuddy a friend or an enemy to the House/Wilson fandom? I personally got very upset, but hey, I am not a script-writer so I couldn't complain. But I did have a few things to scream about to the TV screen._

_Have a great Halloween everyone who celebrates! I can't believe one year ago today I was saying the same thing on this same story. As always, those who leave me the "treat" of leaving a review will get a comment "treat" back. No" tricks" please, I am clumsy enough as it is. Thanks!_


	36. Your Arms Are the Root to my Sanity

Chapter Thirty-Six: Your Arms are My Root to Sanity

House and Wilson left the funeral after everyone had finished talking about Jonathan House, but just before the coffin got lowered to the ground in the cemetery. Blythe didn't mind, she just walked the boys to their car, hugged them both, made House promise to keep in contact with her, and then followed the small crowd of mourning people to the graveyard nearby.

Wilson watched her walk away with a concerned face, the car door on the driver's side still wide open, and one of his feet inside the door. After watching the older woman put her arm around one of her friends, he turned to House, "Is she going to be okay?"

Greg was already in his seat and studying his mom too, in between glances to his iPhone. As his mother turned the corner and disappeared from view he nodded convincingly at Wilson, "She's always been a fighter for her freedom. Now, she'll finally get to enjoy her life to the fullest extent."

James glanced down at the gravel beneath his shiny shoes for a moment, wondering what it was like to feel repressed from being his true self for fifty years, and slipped into the driver's seat. After clicking his seat belt and putting the car in drive, he asked in a half convinced tone, "Is that what you _think_ or what you _know_?"

The blue eyes in the passenger seat lit up with a secret joy and he pocketed his iPhone into his jeans pocket. "Trust me Wilson. I know my _own_ mother."

Wilson vaguely reeled his head back, surprised that his last name was being used instead of the new norm "James". Turning left into the next street, the streetlight's turning on above the subdivision. A thought occurred to him to moment the illuminated light bulb turned on in the twilight glow, "Did you remember a Mother's Day present? It's only two days away."

Greg turned to James and flashed him his cell phone screen, showing a picture of leaning palm trees, a colourful sunset, and a sandy beach. "I bought her a plane ticket to Hawaii. She'll spend two weeks filling all the dark holes the bastard drilled into her with sunshine and bronzed surfers,"

"That's incredibly thoughtful of you. I am surprised you remembered this year." The driver noted, eyebrows lowering in thought. He considered the options of bringing up the topic, and his curiousness got the better of him, "Do you forgive…Jonathan…for everything? Your speech was pretty touching…for _you_ I mean."

House didn't move, his brilliant blue eyes still glued to his cell phone screen, the timer running out for his puzzle game. He didn't make a move to solve the game to get the bonus points; his eyes didn't even recognize the screen anymore. His mind was momentarily and perhaps for one of the first times in his life, frozen. For a moment Wilson considered that House hadn't heard him, but he let it slide, deciding not to ask again. He didn't want his lover to feel obligated to revisit his childhood and erase all the memories penned into his subconscious. James knew from personal experience that was painful and useless to do. He drove on, hoping that Greg would speak to him, but he never did, not even when they switched seat positions.

Around 12:30 A.M. they arrived at their apartment with House at the wheel. In the passenger seat next to him, Wilson was soundly asleep, arms folded across his chest, his breathing in sync with the soft piano music coming through the speakers. Greg hadn't even looked at his lover since they reversed places. House turned the engine off, grabbed his cane from Wilson's lap, got out of the car, slamming the car door as he went.

The sound woke Wilson, who jumped, straightened in the seat and squinted in the darkness. When he realized he was alone, James looked down into his lap, biting his lip._ I hope this won't lead to anything worse than me sleeping on the couch tonight. _He thought timidly, his thoughts seeming to fill the empty automobile. After taking a deep breath, regaining composure, he climbed out of the car, and locked it as he descended the stairs to his home.

It was dark inside. Dark and silent. The only light came from the streetlight from the outside window by the door, casting large gaps of dark and small squints of light around the TV room. House was enveloped in black and whitish-yellow, and what Wilson could see, Greg had loosened his tie and gotten himself a beer. An unopened beer.

James stepped forward hesitantly, not sure if he should ask what's wrong or just go to bed. He watched as his lover held the bottle in his hand, swirling the amber liquid around in the bottle slowly, and wondered why House found this fluid motion so interesting. Without looking up Greg announced, "I know you are there. For a mousey man you aren't that quiet, James."

_Humor's good, and wisecracks are better. _Wilson thought, feeling his shoulder's relax from their tightened poise. He made the final steps towards the black leather shape in the room, and sat down next to House. Not too close. But close enough. "Forget a bottle opener, Greg? I can get one for you." His voice replied, hoping to himself his voice didn't have any pity in it.

Without answering his lover's question, Greg lifted the bottle up into the air, over both their heads, so the bottle was only seen in the light. "Alcohol. The one thing that held the House marriage together." He scoffed here, but it sounded as if he was hiding something other than humor.

"Without this numbing liquid," he continued, lowering the glass bottle, and opening it, "I wouldn't be here." He took a long sip, as if thanking the drink for giving him life. "And you," House said after the bottle was half empty, pointing at Wilson, "You…James Wilson…wouldn't be in love right now…would you?" House hiccupped, smiling stupidly, and it was just then that Wilson noticed three other empty bottles on the couch next to him, and realized it wasn't the first beer that night.

Wilson didn't want House to drink his feelings away, and to be honest, he hated seeing House waking up with a splitting headache and a grumpy attitude. At least, a grumpy attitude that was self-induced. He reached up and grabbed the illuminated bottle, and House didn't put up a fight, he burst out laughing. Wilson set the beverage and the bottles down on the floor, away from their feet.

The drunken laughter reverberated off the apartment's walls and caused the full-grown man to fall sideways into the vacant space on the cushion between them. He laughed so hard that tears started falling from his eyes, the true emotions behind the tears unknown. Wilson sighed and seized House's shoulders, pushed him back up, and scooted closer so they were next to one another. James still held onto Greg as the mirth reduced down to a chuckle, and then a long sigh. Silence again.

"Are you okay?"

"Me? Okay? Never been better. Why to ask St. Jimmy?" Squirming to get out of the tight grasp, but like a baby tuckering itself out, stopping, and eyes closing against Wilson's chest.

"I don't like when you drink and--" James started to say before House cut him off. "Your arms are my root to my sanity." House slurred, but the message came out clear as day, and started to sleep. Without his control, James smiled in the beam of artificial lighting. Greg still needed him, and even if the older man didn't know why in the morning, Wilson still felt like he had a purpose. And that's all that mattered.

**Author's note: [PLEASE READ]** Writer's Block is a bitch. I haven't been able to come up with how this chapter would go until I dreamt it up last night. Thanks for your patience. My next chapter is going to be _Wilson's birthday. Any suggestions? Gift ideas?_ I want to know what you guys think because my Dream Machine is drawing a blank. (Having a night job does that to ya!) But Happy 2009 Everyone! Let's make this year awesome! Thanks for making my 2008 easier with your reviews!


	37. Birthday Gift Idea?

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Birthday Idea?

The next morning, the sun rose just as it normally had for fifty years, on another day for Gregory House. If House would've been awake to see the sunrise he would've seen clear blue behind the blinding orange orb of heat, and he would've sighed in peace. But maybe it was a good thing that he didn't see the brightness of Nature's heat source. The self-inflicted hang-over would have thrust him into a sour state. Unfortunately, he woke up early anyway.

A home phone rang out in the apartment around 8:00 A.M, thrusting the boys awake on the couch. They almost fell off, one on top of the other formally dressed, onto the cold unforgiving wooden floor. Wilson caught himself and blocked the impact for his lover with his still half-asleep hands. House blinked awake and groaned from deep in his throat, before the next ring rattled through his skull.

Blue eyes matching the sky squinted shut as he mumbled in a rugged voice, "Could you get that?" Wilson's arms were wobbiling as he thrust his legs onto the floor like an expert gymnast, and ran shakily to the phone. Clearing his voice he answered, "Wilson speaking?"

"How is he?" Came Cuddy's strong maternal voice, getting right to the subject of the matter.

"He…" Wilson stiffly turned to see House sitting up, his legs still on the couch, his callused hands rubbing his temples in obvious anguish. "He is hung-over," As he saw his lover pop two pills, he continued, "But somewhat functioning as normal."

"He shouldn't be drinking. It was what _killed_ his father after all." Cuddy criticized, her tone stern.

Wilson lowered his voice, turning his back to House, "If you knew what House has gone through, you would be happy just to know he wasn't buried _before_ his father."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lisa asked, oblivious and almost unbelieving. _What he has gone through? Hmph. What he's put me through is nothing close…_ She thought somewhat bittersweetly.

"I will tell you later." James turned around to see House pulling himself up and limping like a one-footed zombie to the coffeemaker. He braved a compassionate smile as House passed him, and Greg weakly returned it. "Is it okay if he gets the day off today, Lisa? I don't think he is in any mood to be with patients."

"Why do you say that?"

"He smiled at me."

"Oh God. Let me page the Psych Ward."

"Seriously though. It would be best if he just took a day off, to you know. Brew in his own juices and come out fresh."

Cuddy sighed here, but it wasn't an irritated sigh. It was just a breath to stop her own sarcasm. Her soft side surfaced again, right as House's face lifted up from the coffee cup. "Just make sure he showers. I will see you at work today, however."

"Fair enough." Wilson responded.

"Goodbye James."

"See you in a half hour Lisa."

_Click._

House poured Wilson a half a cup of coffee and added some milk to it as Wilson approached him. "What did she want to know?" He asked, the clarity returning to his blue eyes, the bags under them still as deep and dark as his couch. He handed it to his lover, his hand shaking slightly.

James sipped the coffee, the hot liquid slipping down his throat faster than expected, causing him to cough on it for a moment. Greg patted him on the back to get it out, joking lightheartedly, "Don't get all choked up over it again, James. It's in the past remember?"

Wilson took the joke to smile dryly and he shook his head as he blew on the scorching breakfast beverage, "She wanted to know how you were. And made sure I do my job today." His brown eyes showed some sort of apology behind them as if he wished he could stay home to take care of what he thought would be a needy heart.

Greg broke the trance of the deep eyes by getting himself some more coffee, the steam coming from the cup clearing his head. "Don't worry about me. Take care of the Baldies. I will be fine. Besides," he turned around, the confident smirk on his face no different than it had ever been in their relationship, "I need to play some music anyway."

"You sure?" James asked the last word coming out with a slice of pity and worry in it, without his control.

"Go." Greg's eyes shone with assurance and temperate peace. Placing the coffee cup on the counter, he leaned forward and placed his hand around Wilson's waist and pulled him close to his body. Wilson was adding sugar to his coffee and the spoon came clattering to the floor in surprise. As the taller and stronger man looked eye to eye with his lover he scanned the brown eyes for a sign of worry and found none. He took that as his sign and kissed him on the lips, the taste of the morning's coffee rubbing off.

"How come you always taste so sweet to me, James?" House asked, his voice quiet and tender, the vibration of his gentle heart beat warm on Wilson's buttoned open shirt.

"Maybe…because I just had sugar on my lips?" Wilson teased, his cheeks warming and brown eyes turning a lighter brown, like rich, thick caramel.

"Maybe. Or maybe because you are my sweeter side. The part of me that people aren't afraid to approach. The side of my soul that actually leaves a good taste in other people's mouths…figuratively speaking of course."

"Of course." Wilson agreed, noticing the grip around his waist getting tighter, along with the excited feeling in his chest. He wanted to continue kissing House but he knew if he did, he would miss the best part of the metaphor.

House planned his next words carefully, just as he always had, every word having meaning to another connected thought. He felt his heart race, especially when Wilson's whole face smiled at him like that. "You are my sugar in my bitter cup of coffee called life, James."

_How do you follow up on something like that?_ Wilson's racing thoughts pounded in rhythm with his pounding heart. Suddenly he felt something at his waist. His phone started to vibrate in his pocket. Now it House's turn to blush only slightly, his blue eyes contrasting so they looked like two blueberries in a basket of strawberries. James slowly lowered his hand to get his cell, causing Greg to shiver, and pulled it out of his pocket.

"Cuddy."

"Figures. Answer it before I lose my soft side again."

"Hello? I'm on my way out of the shower now okay?" Wilson answered his voice laced with hurry and slightly heavy breathing that had nothing to do with hot water.

"That's fine. Just turn off your home phone before you start fooling around before work okay?" Cuddy responded with deadpan seriousness.

All the blood that was else where went to both of the men's faces, House's eyes becoming size of the Crown Jewel sapphires, Wilson's the size of Hershey's kisses. "W-we weren't--" He stuttered out, more on the spot than he had felt in a long time.

Before House could take the phone and explain (he had much more experience with covering his ass with matters such as these) Cuddy laughed out all the stress she was feeling over her top diognostian and continued. "Just kidding you guys. I just wanted to let you know that you can get off early today James. Bye." She hung up, still chuckling.

"You should get dressed." House breathed out, the color on his face slowly returning to normal, his eyes on the floor, making eye contact with his socked feet. "I should." Wilson agreed and rushed into the bathroom, barely closing the door ajar behind him.

_House and Wilson Forever! House and Wilson Forever! House and Wilson Forever!_

Around lunchtime that day, Wilson was in the Cancer Ward, waiting for a nurse to find a patient's chart on the computer. He would've gotten it himself but his computer was being replaced and all the other computers were in use by other nurses.

Spring time is a busy time at the hospital, mostly because people were starting to get outside more. Or they felt safe to get out of the house and drive there. He didn't know the reason, but the patient flow always seemed to increase with the temperature. Or maybe it was just nice weather and he much rather be spending it with House. Yeah, that last reason was most likely it.

While he was waiting, James couldn't help but take in the natural rhythm of what the hospital brings. Just like House likes watching people for personality quirks and limitations, Wilson liked noticing how every aspect of his workplace had a natural pace and beat.

An autistic boy was sitting on the outside of his mother's room, playing with a yo-yo, the plastic hitting the floor and bouncing back up into his hand, where he would do it all over again. The clock on the pillar next to the nurse's station ticked loudly with every yo-you bounce. An old woman was sniffling with every other four ticks. The nurse was chewing and popping her gum once every eight sniffles.

All the while, Wilson was drumming his fingernails on the counter as the basic rhythm to the music around him. Not in impatience, just so he could feel part of the world around him. Even though he much rather be beside House right about now.

_Meanwhile with the bitter side of the coffee…_

House was feeling better. Well, good enough to go rooting around things that were thought to be left alone or out of thought. He was rooting around in Wilson's box of unplaced mementos. It was a fairly large sized cardboard box, that had obviously seen better days. Duct tape and large black bold letters covered the box, yelling loudly and possessively, "James's Stuff!" When House opened the torn flaps, the smell of old cologne and mothballs reached out to greet him.

Inside was a smorgasbord of assorted things, dating back a couple decades and at least three households. Greg reached inside and lifted out a picture frame divided into three sections, each one containing a wedding picture of James Wilson and a new wife. He his happiest with the first one, and the scale of forced joy went up as his age increased as well. The fourth slot remained empty with a handwritten note in Wilson's scrawl, _"Note to self: Never Get Married. Can't Afford to House Self."_ House smirked at his friend's to-do list and set it on the couch next to him.

The next object he lifted out was a plastic bag with a two chess pieces and handwriting marked onto the bag itself. It read "It's your move, little brother." Greg knew from continual prying that Wilson was the youngest of his brothers, and seeing the pieces was eerie as if it was the last thing Wilson had of his sibling. He was right to assume that.

Digging through the box he found wedding and divorce certificates and trophies for things such as Chess Team and plaques for class president. Nothing too surprising, nothing that really struck him as odd. Except maybe boutonnière from his senior prom, taped to a picture of an adolescent James. He was wearing glasses and his mom put some cover-up on him to mask some obvious blemishes. His suit was hand-stitched in parts and the girl next to him was equally under-privialged. They looked like president and vice president of student council, and Greg would be right again to assume that.

At the very bottom of the box, House resurfaced a faded photo album. On the cover was peeling gold calligraphy that stated "College Memories" and the binding was falling apart up top. Greg gingerly lifted open the front cover, and was welcomed by two full color photos of James on graduation day.

James had gotten rid of the glasses for the photo and his face was naturally clearing up. His eyes sparkled with promise and dreams of a wonderful future. House had to control himself from taking advantage of the photograph, Wilson was becoming the handsome man he loved.

Turning the pages he saw Wilson with piles of books and studying, and a few party shots, most of them with all guys and a few girls. Whispering to himself, and to the photograph House commented, "Wow Jimmy. You are attracting the ladies already?"

Flipping through, he noticed as the pages went on James's hair growing longer and more pictures of men with him, particularly ones with musical instruments. The pace of time increasing as he continued through the book, House saw one that completely blew him away. Wilson with a drum set on a stage with a banner of "The Doctors Are In" above his head. "…You were in a band?" House muttered out, barely in a whisper.

These photographs of Wilson and his musical brethren went on for thirty pages at least, the crowds of people getting larger and larger. Ladies surrounded him in a lot of the after-show shots, his eyes shining with a new passion, lust of the women on campus. On one of the last pages of the album contained Wilson getting his diploma, his hair back to a responsible length.

The final photo was of him standing in front of a storage shed, shaking hands and getting a key to the owner of the place. Behind them was his drum set. House's crystal clear vision picked up the phone number of the storage facility and the number of the shed itself. Pawing his way through the box he was able to find the key on a keychain and he kissed it with gratitude. House put everything back in the box, and smiled at the graduation picture of his lover. "Don't worry James. For your birthday tomorrow I will give you the gift of music."

_**A/N: Drum-roll please…that should be a big hint to what House is going to get Wilson for his birthday. And if you still don't know, well, think about it…think about it…I will just sit here drumming my fingers on my desk while you try to figure it out. I hope you guys like the idea because I seriously gave this one a lot of thought. I think House owes Wilson a big show. No more hints. My next day off will contain the actual birthday. Thanks for all your suggestions. I just wanted to do this really REALLY badly. Take care everyone.**_


	38. Breakfast in Bed

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Breakfast in Bed

The plan was this: Call the storage facility to see if the middle-aged man in the photograph had his heart still beating. Step two: arrange a pick-up of James Wilson's drum-set pretending to be a family friend of James. Phase Three: renting a moving truck. Next: having two hired accomplices (Foreman and Chase were already hired, that saved money in the long run) put the drum set on the roof of the hospital. Finally: As James was directly below the roof, say the Cancer Ward, and then House would start to play the drums, somewhat expertly.

The plan seemed perfect on the napkin House was writing on. Now if only everyone would cooperate accordingly; then the next day would be easier than stealing candy from an underage clinic patient. House hoped it would work, otherwise his detective work would have been for nothing, and he would face another important event without a gift. And did Wilson deserve that? Of course not.

In the morning, Wilson woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. His first thought was that he was dreaming of being back with his parents, because all of his ex-wives refused to cook once they found out Wilson could. Rolling over, mumbling to an imaginary parental figure, "Five more minutes, Mom. I don't want to go back to school yet." No one heard him, which allowed him to gratefully go back to sleep.

House was in the kitchen cooking up some simple pleasures. Things he had learned from living half his life alone, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and microwavable bacon. Sure, he was no chef extraordinaire, but he learned the basic, survivable foods. There was only so much take-out he could order before his apartment starting smelling like a grease pad. Cracking another egg and adding to the three already whisked in a bowl, and whistling to himself, he felt proud of himself. Nothing new there. He always had his pride beside him.

He had already called the storage place, called Store Ur Stuff, and noticed that the owner's son had taken over the family business. House found it easier to lie over the phone than in person, that way he could plan his story before dialing the number. Greg found the man had no problem with opening the storage shed and lending him the moving truck, for a fee of course. So far so good.

Popping two more pieces of toast in the toaster, and pouring the eggs into the buttered skillet, House sighed in relief. It was turning out to be a beautiful morning, and he hadn't even seen the sunshine out the window yet. He had woken up before the sun was up, but that just meant he had to make his own sunbeams…even if they were artificial. He was polite to the man on the phone, but only one of them knew it was fake.

Wilson woke up again, this time to the sound of sizzling bacon, and with his eyes still closed, his thick eyebrows wrinkled in thought. It wasn't often the same dream lasted this long, and since when was his childhood bed so comfortably large? He found himself sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger, and blinked the sleep from his chocolate browns. This puzzled him, the smell of fresh food, without him in the kitchen. Before he could answer his curiosity, and his grumbling stomach, the door opened, and House stepped through with a silver tray in one hand. He didn't have his cane and that concerned Wilson, but when he saw House's smile…all concern dissolved away, along with the butter melting on the toast.

"Good morning the reason I wake up in the morning. How are you today?" House stated as easy as breathing, and just as clear as if he just took a deep breath. Wilson's face turned the colour of the rose in the coffee mug on the tray, but his beam matched the sunbeams streaming through the curtains. Greg sat down next to James, lifted up a cloth napkin and tucked it in under his lover's chin, and did the same for himself. "Why are you doing this?" the birthday boy asked, his eyes confused but bright.

"Because I can…and because I wanted to. You deserve good bedside manner from somebody, and I would only want it to be someone who knows you best." House said as he handed Wilson his silver wear. "You cooked…for me?" the surprised man in bed asked, his voice with both desire and shock weaved through it. "Why not? It is a certain someone's birthday isn't it?" Greg inquired knowingly, the astonishment written all over James's face as if with permanent marker.

"You remembered my birthday?" Wilson breathed out, the pancake halfway to his mouth, the syrup dripping on his makeshift bib. "Not everything you say is forgotten Jimmy." The blue-eyed brilliant one stated as he crunched on a piece of bacon. All the other man could do was shake his smiling face from side to side, and finish bringing the fluffy, warm pancake to his mouth.

The two different full grown men with two different full time jobs were a half hour late to work. As they came in with coffee cups and hidden smiles, no one else in the lobby could ruin their morning joy. Not even Lisa Cuddy, who came up to the odd couple with a dark blue gift bag with light blue tissue paper. She didn't look disappointed that they were late, just a little bit time conscious. "Good morning gentlemen and happy birthday James."

James Wilson's whole face and body language lit up like a match and he reached out and took everyone watching by surprise and hugged his boss in a tight, warm hug. She paused for a mille-second but then wrapped her arms around him too, her gift dangling from her fingers around his neck. House peeked into the bag and saw that it was a new cell phone and a gift certificate to the mall. He nodded and shifted his backpack on his shoulder.

When they let go about twenty seconds later, House had already texted the male members of his team. Wilson smiled and gratefully took the present and opened it up. Just as previously seen, it was an iPhone and a gift certificate for $50.00. He inhaled sharply and his eyes widened to the size and colour of brownie bites. "I can tell I made the right choice of gifts." Cuddy said her smile growing.

"Y-Yes you did. Thank you so very much Lisa." Wilson stuttered out.

"I thought you lost your stutter." House teased, his body loose and relaxed, his comment meaning nothing more than a joke. His lover responded with a exhale through the nose, and a slight playful glare in his shining eyes. When House saw that the elevator dial come downwards, he turned to his two co-workers, "I have to go. I left the case file for the patient of the week on my piano bench. I'll catch up with you for lunch Wilson."

James nodded, recalling seeing the familiar blue file on the bench just that morning as they were rushing out the door, and smiled. "Good thing I brought extra money right?" Cuddy shook her head, hardly believing that House would be a lunch leech from his best friend, even on his birthday.

Greg brought out his wallet, and flashed a fiver, "Don't worry. I won't feed off you today." And with that he left. After the two figure heads went their respected ways, Foreman and Chase came out of the elevator and out into the parking garage. House was already in the driver's seat of Wilson's car, and motioned for them to get inside pronto.

Chase got in behind House, with Foreman in the passenger seat, and before they clicked their seat belts, Eric Foreman asked the question that was on both their minds. "What the hell is this about?" House didn't answer his neurologist's question, he started the car instead, and turned to his right and questioned in his usual sarcastic tone, "At the risk of sounding like a racist, sterotypical person, like that's gonna happen, how well can you play drums Foreman?"

Foreman knew better than to become speechless at this sort of comment. He rolled his dark eyes, and looked into his boss's deep ocean irises and answered, "I played percussion in high school band for one and a half years."

House acknowleged this with a nod, and turned to Chase behind him, who was looking puzzled. "Can you play guitar?" His face was halfway lit up in joy and hopefullness.

Chase shook his head a little too quickly. "I can play violin. What is this about House? We have work to do." He now began to take on a somewhat annoyed vibe, as if he much rather be by Cameron right now.

"Guitar. Violin. Same thing, just larger. And my words exactly. Let's cut the crap and let's go." House hardly waited two seconds for the two other men to clip their seatbelts and then he drove out of the parking garage at almost 55 mph. He was dead-set and determined that what he had in mind was going to blow Wilson's mind. What a breeze.

**Author's Notes: I apologize more than words can say for the long delay. My computer recently died while typing up this chapter, and I lost everything. So I needed to work extra hard for a long time and I was finally able to buy my own laptop. No more sharing with my roomates, no more viruses, no more days of being holed up in my office, feeling the pain of not seeing the sunset. Just freeedom to type this up wherever I chose. **

**Thanks for the patience, and I am sorry this chapter is so short. My patience is even shorter because of all the hours I have been working. But I will update soon, I am thinking by Good Friday. And next chapter will be the actual music. Any song ideas? House is going to sing and play piano, Foreman is going to play drums, and Chase is going to play guitar. And I am open for any songs with these instruments. (By the way, House's piano can play other instruments too, it's a sythesizer.) Please PLEASE help me with song choice. It is greatly appriecated. As always, peace, love, acceptance, and nature. You guys have kept me and my dream alive this long…and I won't give up on you guys.**


	39. Angels on the Moon Part One

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Angels on the Moon

_Quick Author's Note: In my eyes, the Cancer Ward is going to be directly underneath the roof where the Birthday Concert to Wilson is taking place. If you pictured it anywhere else in the hospital I am sorry. Please just relocate it in your head for the sake of making this work. Thanks for the long wait---I have been having trouble bringing up my Math Grade and that is why I couldn't write. I missed you all._

Dr. Gregory House drove Dr. James Wilson's car through the streets of Princeton, New Jersey, a mental map charting itself as he weaved in and out of the streets. He was cruising with the window down, enjoying the warm spring breeze blowing through his hair, and wearing blue sunglasses that matched his intelligent blue eyes. He was also smirking and avoiding the confused eye contact of Forman and Chase.

"So…" House broke the silence and rolled up his window while stopped at a stoplight next to the storage facility Store Ur Stuff. "Today is Wilson's 40th birthday and I wanted to get him something special—"

"Get him a tie and a bloody gift card. It is not like you are married to the man," came from the backseat. Chase was now sitting in the middle to avoid getting carsick, with his legs spread and one hand on each seat in obvious defeat. Foreman, who still had not uncrossed his arms, cocked a black eyebrow at House. "Why didn't you just get him a gift card? This isn't like you."

House turned into the parking lot of the storage shop, turned off the car, and pulled off the sunglasses. "He's forty, not fourteen. He deserves something a bit more personalized. So, I researched into the past of Dr. James Wilson and discovered he played drums in collage and stored them here. I was going to take them out, put them on the roof, and perform a song for his birthday. And you two lucky bandmates are going to help me."

Chase groaned from the back of the car, Foreman just nodded in thought. House continued, "If you guys do this for me, I will give you the money I would have normally spent on a gift and you can have the rest of the week off." It was Thursday, so it was worth a shot. Chase sat up, unclipped his seat belt and got out of the car. Eric Foreman looked at his boss, and shook his hand. "You've got a deal." House felt his heart warm up in joy. _Oh this is absolutely spectacular. Wilson. I hope you don't mind I snooped around in your past life._

_Back at the hospital_

Wilson was somewhat of a celebrity at the hospital…especially among the nurses. They all wished him a Happy Birthday and a select handful gave him polite gifts like flowers or chocolates. He felt his face turn a permanent colour of red for at least an hour, making him feel light headed. But it felt good to be appreciated. He walked into his office juggling at least four bouquets and three boxes of assorted chocolates. "What is this? Valentine's Day?" he asked to himself, setting them all down on his desk.

He noticed a note written on the desk in House's handwriting. Sitting in the black leather chair behind his desk he started to read:

Some days are bad, some days are good,

But everyday with you is wonderful, and it should.

When I see you, I see life.

I see joy and no strife.

Usually happy, usually hyped.

No day with you is a loss,

Every day with you is a win.

I love you so much.

I will love you until the end.

I will love you forever,

Forever and ever and then.

P.S. I know it isn't pure gold and radiating genius craftsmanship but you woke up before I could dip too deep in thought. Part two of your gift is going to come when you least expect it. Go to the Cancer Ward around noon.

You know the L word I am thinking about.

Greg

Wilson sat in his chair, holding the piece of paper in his hand, grinning from ear to ear. He knew for a fact that House could be an excellent poet if he really wanted to and he allowed himself the proper amount of time. It was the thought that counted and it made him feel completely warm all over. Looking out the window and feeling the sunlight streaming inside his office made him feel even happier. _What a absolutely spectacular morning. _

_Back with the Band of Doctors and One Very Confused Man_

"Sure…I can lend you the rental truck for a small fee Mr. House" Jack Mazurka, the new owner of Store Ur Stuff answered. "Thank you so very much Mr. Mazurka. I will have my co-workers drive it back after we take care of the performance later on this afternoon." The crazy cripple answered, with genuine excitement but artificial politeness in his voice. He didn't waste a second and opened up the orange and green striped storage shed.

He was met once again with the smell of dust, mothballs, and old cologne. He found a familiar smirk on his face when he thought to himself that Wilson is going to smell like this when he grew older. Nah…not likely…James was going to smell shiny and clean forever. There were so many memories and so many boxes in the 15x15 feet shed. There were so many ways to explore all the nooks and crannies about Jimmy Wilson's life. But that was a task for another day. Today was special. Today was the day he rocked Wilson's socks off. In the very center of the shed was the drum set that almost made Wilson famous. It was a wee bit dusty but it was all there. The sight of it made House's dream come true.

With a little help, in other words, he just watched and directed where the parts would go, House was able to get all the pieces of the drum set into the rental truck. Jack, the people pleaser to the thousand degree, helped with the drum set and offered House the keys to the truck. House took them, smiled graciously, and without a second thought handed them to Foreman. "I'll take Wil--James's car back to the hospital. You can drive the truck Eric."

"Thank you for this responsibility…Greg…" Foreman answered, a bit confused why his boss was using first names, but then he realized he was among company that he normally wasn't. He flashed a smile at Jack and nodded at him. "Thank you Jack. Have a good day." Without the slightest sense of awkwardness, he climbed in the front seat of the truck, with Chase in the passenger seat. As he had done and witnessed most of his life, Jack closed the truck's sliding door, and locked up the storage shed.

"Be sure to tell James that his stuff his all still here, just waiting to be revisited." Jack Mazurka said to his blue-eyed, grinning customer. House had to fight the urge to call the poor guy's customer service a bit too sugary sweet, but he swallowed the comment and said with the same level of sweetness in his voice, "I sure will. Have a great day. We will return the truck around 2:00 P.M." The medical school educated one handed over a twenty dollar bill as the fee for the vehicle and turned and limped to Wil—James's car.

_Author's Note: My battery is about to die and I left my charger at the library. I will write House and his band next chapter. The song I have decided is Angels on the Moon by Thriving Ivory. I chose it because I just adore the lyrics. Thank you for all you recommendations. I wish I could write more but time is short. I have a little time tomorrow before I have to go to work to write the story. I love and missed you guys all very VERY much. I hope everyone is well…feel free to tell me how your life is going if you want. Take care!_


	40. Angels on the Moon Part Two

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Angels on the Moon: Part Two

Wilson checked his watch and realized he had an appointment to keep with a patient in the Cancer Ward. He also noticed that it was "around noon". Strange how House seemed to memorize his lover's schedule, but then again, he had seen it unfold in the same way for quite a while. Adjusting his tie, and putting on the trademark lab coat at the door, he left his office. So far, he couldn't have asked for a better birthday. Part of him wanted to be with House though. And that part was beating in his chest with a unique rhythm known to lovers all around the world.

_With the Crazy Cripple and his Musical Minions_

"Okay…a little more to the left…good. Place the drums right there, where the sun shines down on the roof at just the right angle." House directed to his two co-workers that were getting slightly nervous for their adventurous afternoon. Foreman was convinced it wasn't going to be so hard, he knew the song that House wanted to perform, and if he forgot a part of the song, House was decent enough to print out the drum and guitar notes for his crew. Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket, Eric Foreman started to dust off the drum set.

"What compelled you to do this House?" Chase asked as he tuned the electric guitar that House had provided for him. He was fed and hydrated from the food that was in House's backpack so he couldn't complain. He hoped that playing guitar would come naturally to him like playing violin did. House was busy uncurling his piano matt and plugging it into a pair of speakers he had also kidnapped from Wilson's storage shed. Placing it on an oak table that was brought up by a pair of bribed janitors, he turned to Chase, "Pure insanity and devotion to drive Wilson down the same path."

"Of course." Both of the younger men responded in sync with one another, which caused House's smirk to broaden a bit, "You can perform together. You are already reading each other's brain signals." The older man stated in a voice that could only radiate pride and anticipation. Chase was practicing chords with the unplugged stringed instrument, and noted that it wasn't that difficult and thanking God that the song was a simple one.

House checked his watch, took a deep breath and sat down on the bench that matched the table. "Okay Foreman, you can start playing basic drum beats. It's showtime. And Chase, plug in that instrument so people in the clinic can hear it. Don't be nervous, and remember, this is for Wilson."

Without a word Foreman nodded, and started to drum on the ancient drum set, which still sounded good despite its age. He didn't start the song's rhythm, he just did some warm ups. And it felt good to be behind the percussion set again, a familiar freedom fell over him, and he was enjoying every liberating second of it. Chase meanwhile studied the notes and then set them on the table next to House, "I got it. I used to listen to this all the time." Greg House nodded and turned up the volume on the piano, ready to rock.

_With the Whimsical Wilson_

Striding into one of the patient's rooms, Dr. Wilson wasn't sure of what to expect. The room was occupied by an unfortunate non-smoker lung cancer patient, one he had met only once before. Last time he met with her she was convinced that the nightmare disease was just a misdiagnosis. Now she seemed to have woken up and faced the fact. Sitting up in her bed, watching the television, the twenty-something woman was enjoying the movie that was on. Her dark brown wig fit smugly on her head, her dark brown eyes lighting up when the actor said something witty, her face reflecting a blindingly beautiful smile.

"Hey Laura. How are you feeling today?" James Wilson asked as he approached the bed, his bedside manner making up for everything that House's lacked. She turned to see him, and smiled at his arrival, "I am doing pretty well. The dizziness isn't so bad today." Her silky voice responded. Her whole appearance and voice reminded Wilson of melted chocolate, and he had complemented on her eyes in their first visit. _Eyes never change, hair does._ He remembered telling himself when he started at this hospital.

"I am glad to hear that. Is your appetite back?" The medical professional asked, ready to order something from the hospital cafeteria if she wanted something. He sat down on the stool next to her bed, pulling out his stethoscope. She wobbled her head from side to side, and replied in a tone that sounded a little disappointed, "Not really. I had an early breakfast and haven't been able to keep anything down since."

"Chemotherapy can do that. I hope that you can hopefully get some chicken broth later on today. It always helps my stomach when I am not feeling well." Wilson empathized, which always put patients at ease, young or old. He placed the warm metal of the medical instrument on her heart, checking her heartbeat, but heard a different beat instead. Something that belonged at a concert and not at a hospital.

"Can you hear that?" Wilson asked his patient, whose eyes were closed. She nodded once or twice. "What could it be? Are you guys doing reconstruction on the roof?" Laura asked her doctor who was looking more confused by the second. "Not that I know of…" He responded with puzzlement weaving through his voice. James had reasonably good hearing, something he was proud of. He heard the beating sound pick up in tempo and it hit him like a sac of pillows what it was…or who it was for that matter.

"I will be right back. If you need anything just press the nurse's button on the side of your bed." Dr. Wilson stated professionally, leaving her with a heartwarming smile, he also had a nurse come into the room to make sure Laura was comfortable. Before he knew where his legs were carrying him he was running up the stairs to the roof of the hospital. He was in for a surprise.

Bursting through the door, James Wilson's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. There assembled in a way that could only be considered a preplanned event, was Chase on the guitar, Foreman playing a set of drums that looked very familiar, and House on the piano with a microphone. Before he could ask what the hell was going on, House started to play his keyboard and all at once the reason for Wilson's "around noon" location became clear. As clear as the crystal blue sky above them, and as clear as House's love for him.

The doctor who obviously had more musical talent in one toenail than everyone else on the roof combined smiled brightly at his one man audience and started to sing the song that he had planned for the reason he was so insane. Wilson. And for once in his life, he wasn't ashamed to open his mouth and sing. He had no reason to be embarrassed of his voice though. It rang out with passion, pride, and only a slice of anxiety.

"_Do you dream  
That the world will know your name  
So tell me your name  
And do you care  
About all the little things  
Or anything at all  
I want to feel  
All the chemicals inside  
I said I want to feel  
I want a sunburn  
Just to know that I'm alive  
Just to know I'm alive_

_I want to live live  
Just to see the day  
When we all can get along  
I want to scream  
Scream my song out loud  
So everyone could hear  
Do you believe  
In the day that you were born  
Tell me do you believe  
And do you know  
That every day's the first  
Of the rest of your life_

_  
And ohh don't tell me if I'm dying  
'Cause I don't want to know  
If I can't see the sun  
Maybe I should go  
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming  
Of angels on the moon  
Where everyone you know  
Never leaves too soon_

_And you know the pain  
That brought you here today  
So what can you do  
And you know the tears  
For losing those you love  
When yesterday is gone  
So please remember  
Not to waste another day  
Not to worry your mind  
And please forgive me  
For taking so much time  
To get back on my feet._

_And I'll fight it out  
'Cause I know I can  
And I'll sleep tight  
When you're not here  
Oh no  
I won't surrender_

_This is to one last day in the shadows  
And to know a brother's love  
This is to New York City angels  
And the rivers of our blood  
This is to all of us  
This is to all of us_

_Don't tell me if I'm dying  
'Cause I don't want to know  
If I can't see the sun  
Maybe I should go  
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming  
Of angels on the moon  
Where everyone you know  
Never leaves too soon  
Don't tell me if I'm dying  
'Cause I don't want to know  
If I can't see the sun  
Maybe I should go  
Don't wake me 'cause I'm dreaming  
Of angels on the moon  
Where everyone you know  
Never leaves too soon_

_And don't tell me if I'm dying, no  
Don't tell me if I'm dying  
Don't tell me if I'm dying"_

Wilson had put a hand to his mouth while he was watching House perform on the makeshift stage. Soon enough he recognized the drumset as his own, but for once didn't care if House was a snoop or not. He shifted his eyes to Chase and Foreman every other verse or so, but he mostly watched House. He felt himself tear up when House said the lyrics "To know a brother's love" but he wouldn't let the tears fall, for that was the last thing he wanted the two other doctors to see. When the song ended House chuckled lightly and whispered in the microphone, slightly breathless, "Happy Birthday James. This was all for you."

Stroope, Clayton. "Angels on the Moon."

_Thriving Ivory. _Winding Up Records., 2008.


	41. What the Hell is Going On?

Chapter Forty: What the Hell is Going On?

Dr. James Wilson stood in a shocked silence. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. He was partially convinced that in his hurry of running up the stairs, he must have slipped on some water on the floor, hit his head on the stair rail, and he was now laying on the ground in a daze surrounded by a nurse or two and some janitors. This was all just a brain damaged dream. But the way House was smiling at him confirmed James Wilson was still in the present.

The oncologist took a few steps forward and stood directly in front of the pianist, his eyes turning red and watery. His hands both shaking, he rested them on top of the table, inches away from House's. "Why would you do all this for me? It's only a birthday…" Before his lover could answer, the roof door burst open again, this time by Dr. Lisa Cuddy.

She looked furious. Her gray eyes that normally resembled smooth silver were now a dark cloudy gray and were squinted right at House. Her normally every-hair-in-place look was shattered, she now looked extremely ruffled. Storming right up to House she growled, "House! I should have known you were the lunatic behind this. I've had veterans climbing under their beds, thinking the hospital was under attack—"

House stood to his feet, his facial expression growing dark at the mention of veterans, and snarled, "They were doing that long before I came up here and performed this concert for Wilson's birthday."

Cuddy seemed to skip a beat and then looked back and forth between House and Wilson, "…T-that's what this was all about?" She asked, feeling ridiculous now.

Wilson, House, Foreman, and Chase all nodded.

"Why didn't you get my permission? I know the roof is your place to be alone but you have taken this to a whole new level." She continued, fury still on the edge of her voice, but mostly calm.

House scoffed, "And spoil the surprise? This was for Wilson's birthday and you thought I would tell you about it? Even I know when to keep my mouth shut about certain surprises." Wilson laughed quietly and looked down, feeling his face warm.

Their boss sighed, an annoyed long sigh, and then looked directly into House's eyes, "Just never again on the hospital okay? I don't mind that you have music buddies, and it seems that you have musical talent, but I don't want to have to explain to 30 worried soldiers that we are not under siege again."

House and Wilson looked at each other and smiled.


	42. Dear My Friends and Readers I'm Sorry

Dear my dear readers and friends,

I want to come out and apologize from the bottom of my heart that you have not seen an update on this story in over a year. It's not that I haven't had the time to write…lately I've been overwhelmed with too much free time. It's that I have had no inspiration to write. I tried re-reading my stories from start to finish. I tried watching my favourite House and Wilson episodes and looking through my old sketches of my two favourite boys. But. My mind still draws a blank every time I open up a new Word document. Reading your reviews has helped me feel as though I can write again. So thank you, thank you so much for reading my story over the last few years. I'm sorry I've kept you waiting so long. If you don't want to continue reading my stories, I understand. I thank you for being there for me all the same. You have been beyond wonderful for a writer's confidence.

I've decided to take this story and put it on LiveJournal , chapter by chapter, while keeping it on until I can write a new chapter. I will update them both at the same time when I think of something that will fit in where I left off. I still love House and Wilson more than any House and Cuddy relationship that seems to be developing on the series this season. I hope you all have been well over this past year and I wish you many happy days in your future. Thank you for your patience and understanding…I will write more as soon as I can.

Sincerely and apologetically,

Christina


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